They woke just as I sat down to dinner.
Or Alaska did, anyway, looking up at me as I passed by her corner.
It really was great timing.
A holiday Monday spent scrubbing pollen off the white fence outside the living room window (it was completely green), pulling weeds around the house, and, oh, carrying around 38-weeks-worth of baby everywhere I went left me tired in every part of me; and I’d been dreaming of a bath, then bed, since 4 p.m.
But it never really works that way with ferrets.
They didn’t really want to play. Not then. First Alaska, then Jasmine, woke just long enough to check for open doors, then settled down between couch cushions for another nap.
They slept as the sun set and the cool evening breeze moved through the house.
They slept, adorably nestled together, until I started to refill their food and water bowls, in preparation for putting them back away, running my bathwater.
Jasmine woke fast, nose twitching, dancing around my feet and flipping over onto her head as she raced into the TV stand after the Easter egg I’d kicked across the room.
8:30 p.m. and they wanted to play.
You can’t leave playing ferrets unattended. That is, you can’t leave them alone unless you like books pulled off shelves, shoes hidden, bags emptied of their contents and food stashed between cushions. And it was just us last night, Jasmine and Alaska and I.
I never did get that bath. But Jasmine made me laugh instead, all the way up until I called it a night.
And that’s not really too bad of a trade.