We inherited a ferret, a feral one, albino male which was covered in ticks and very ill. I nursed it back to health and it became a nice big ole boy but couldn’t be trusted around bare flesh. So to hold him I wore thick gloves and tops with full arms and never ever let it near my neck or face for fear of a blood bath.
My partner chatted one day to a good friend of ours about ferrets and our friend said that he thought some good kits would be produced from our dog and his Jill. Alas, my partner failed to tell me about this conversation and our friend turned up on our doorstep with his Jill in full season and promptly popped it in with our dog ferret.
You can imagine what happened next… a lot of squeaking and rolling around and, well, that was it, the deed was done, and I put the kettle on while our friend lit a fag.
A short while later our first litter was born. Tiny little pink, bald wrigglers which were cute as hell.
Over the next few weeks they grew very quickly and I had to read a lot of books, google for information and speak to as many ferret friends as possible. I knew nothing! I fumbled through handling them and possibly treated them more like puppies than kits, wrong or right I don’t know, but they all seemed fine and didn’t bite or hiss at me.
Until one evening we had got home and I went to let the dogs out of their kennels for their night time relief and went to pet the ferrets. I didn’t think I had startled them or there was any problem as the first 5 kits were fine and happy for a play and stroke, then I picked up a sandy coloured little Jill and she was fine for the first minute but then turned on me and sunk her teeth into my finger. I froze, what the hell!?! Ouch!!! What do you do in that situation? Well I had previously read my books and surfed the internet and had read that the solution was to hold the kit by the scruff of the neck and hiss at it, which I did, and did, and did, and did…….. Ouch Ouch Ouch, she didn’t let go, but very slowly (and also feeling like it was very deliberately) sunk her teeth deeper into my finger until she hit bone and could crunch down no further.
I didn’t scream or make a sound, not through bravery, but because of shear shock. Now what do I do? I paused and stared at her, she glared at me and I’m sure she was smiling through her teeth. My next reaction was to flick her on the nose (right or wrong again I don’t know). It worked! She let go and promptly started sneezing. This little creature was now sneezing because I had flicked it on the nose and now I feel so guilty while blood is flowing from my finger. Why? She had hurt me and didn’t care. But I care. I feel bad now because I’m sure I could or should have done something else to stop her chowing on my finger. As the blood continued flowing from my finger and I popped her back in the hutch, put the dogs away to bed, and headed to the house in tears were I ran cold water over my hand and compressed my finger.
Tetanus? Rabies? am I up to date with my jabs? Now what set her off to do that? Had I become complacent or do young kits ‘try it on’ at some point?
I ruined my relationship with her. I was nervous of her which I’m certain she knew which only made it all worse between us. I had no problem with the other kits especially the dogs as they seemed more chilled out and less excitable than the Jill’s.
I couldn’t believe how quickly people came forward to give them homes and felt quite sad to see them gone.
The little Jill that bit me went to a very good home and I am glad to say that they have not had any problems with her.
The mother Jill died later in the year. But we had another litter the next year from one of the Jill’s we kept.
I had less time to give to this litter and was still a little nervous from memories of the little Jill who had bitten me the previous year however I had a good bond with all the dogs in the litter and could do anything to them and they were really playful with me.
Again the kits went quickly. I had put an advert in a local shop which we sold 1, and the rest were sold through ‘Preloved’ to people who travelled quite some distance to get to us.
We kept 2 of the ferrets so had a total of 4, but the father of the litter died later in the year from jaw cancer.
Our situation changed and we had to find a home for the 3 we had left. Thankfully they all went to the same home, a gentleman in his 70’s who had ferrets for 60 years. So we knew they were in good hands.
I think ferrets are lovely, intelligent, inquisitive, cute and fun. But they must be handled correctly, be given time and patience, and be handled with confidence.