The ferrets are planning to kill me

See that face? That is the face of an angry ferret. A freshly bathed, very wet, Very. Angry. Ferret.

Something you may not know about ferrets, is that they can catch human sicknesses. They're especially susceptible to colds and flu, which are dangerous to the ferret, and expensive to the human who foots their vet bills.

With that in mind, I've tried to minimize contact with my boys this week, for their (and my budget's) own good. They, of course, think they are terribly neglected and abused, as they spent most of a week without getting to play their favorite ferret-human games like Tackle the Toes, or Knot the Knitting. Then I really made them mad.

Another little known fact - you don't bathe ferrets more than every six weeks or so, max, as bathing strips the oil from their coats, causing them to go into oil production overdrive, which actually results in them smelling worse for a few days. But they're in the middle of spring shed, so there's fur everywhere, and with the cold weather all winter it's been a while since they've had a bath. They had basically reached the point of smelling worse than they would if I bathed them, so it was time.

Trying to get a jump on the weekend chores, I came straight home from work Friday, so I could take advantage of the daylight to take their cages outside and disinfect and hose them down. I put their little hammocks in the wash - then it was doomsday (still not sure for who though).

I rounded everyone up, cleaned eight ears, clipped nails on sixteen feet, and dragged four ferrets up to the tub. (You don't want to do one at a time, or you'll bathe one ferret, then spend six hours looking for the rest of them.) They foofed their tails. They glared. Frack made a valiant attempt to escape by leaping over the side of the tub, climbing up and over me, and making a break for it. (Fortunately, I know this trick, and had closed the door.) Frick made an heroic attempt to save his brothers by stealing the shampoo after he'd already been washed (you could practically hear him squeaking "It's too late for me, but I got the smelly stuff - save yourselves!")

As of right now, almost a day later, they are still giving me glares and tail foofs, alternated with following me around, gathering at my feet, and giving me the "don't you feel guilty" look. I know what they're really up to though. They're weasels after all, and not above revenge. I warned them - "I know people!" "I know people with legal connections!" "I know people who are legal connections!" They just looked at me, and plain as day said "Silly human. Do you really think anyone would convict a bunch of cute, fwuffy widdle fewwets?" They know they could get away with murder, just by pulling the cute little fuzzy face routine.

If my crumpled corpse is found at the foot of the stairs make sure someone dusts for pawprints.