Could I recommend ferrets? The parent who aspires to idleness will
often make the basic error of thinking that more animals in the house
means more work. This might be true for the first week or two following
the arrival of the animal in the home, but the family will soon grow
accustomed to the small amount of feeding and looking after that pets
need. And the bonus is that if you choose the right animal, the kids
will do it all for you. This has certainly been the case with our new
ferrets, Twister and Whisper.
The first point to make is that ferrets are nothing like as smelly
and bitey as their reputation suggests. It is true that a light odour
lingers on the hands after handling them but this is easily despatched
with water. As for the biting, they will tend to nip you if you stick
a finger in their
face, but a light swipe to the nose will discourage
this habit.
Twister and Whisper live in a rabbit hutch in the yard. In there
they have a few pieces of plastic guttering to play with and a ladder
to climb. Each morning while I am still in bed, Delilah, aged seven,
takes herself off to the hutch to feed them. Then, when I come downstairs
for breakfast, I will sit down at the table and feel a wet nose on
my toe. Twister and Whisper will be cavorting around the kitchen floor.
And cavort they do: I have never seen such amusing and playful creatures.
They leap and pirouette around the room, exploring, sniffing and tustling.
They love to pinch things and yesterday I had a fight with Twister
over an ice cube tray. He won and dragged it under the sofa to squeals
of delight all round. Their name derives from furis, Latin for thief.
But they are noble creatures and there is a portrait of Elizabeth
II holding a ferret complete with a fancy, jewelled collar.
Delilah loves to carry them around in her dressing gown: she keeps
one in the hood and one poking its inquisitive little head out of her
sleeve. All three children will play with them in the kitchen for hours
and I think this is an infinitely superior way to spend time than staring
at a computer screen. Computers put life at a distance whereas ferrets
bring it up very close, close enough to bite you on the nose.
On our return from our holiday to Lundy island, it cheered me when
the older two said they couldn't wait to get home. Why? To see the
ferrets. The youngest, however, disappointed his Luddite father. "I
can't wait to get home," he said. "And why's that Henry?" I asked.
His face lit up like a happy dwarf: "PlayStation!"
Perhaps Henry will be more interested when we use the ferrets for
their real purpose, which is of course to catch rabbits. This is the
great thing about them: unlike most pets, ferrets are useful and they
will earn their keep. Come October, when they are large enough, my
friend Brian is going to take us out with nets and show us how to catch
bunnies for the pot.
It surprised me to discover that this ancient practice is apparently
illegal in the US, out of concern for little bunnies. Such startling
hypocrisy from a country that farms animals for meat in the cruellest
manner possible is infuriating. I made the mistake of buying a book
called Ferrets for Dummies from the pet shop, without realising
it was an American guide. Let me quote this infuriating bit of sentimental,
patronising and muddle-headed thinking: "I don't advise trying your
hand at the sport of ferreting for many reasons: It's illegal. Your
ferret can get lost, maybe for good. It's cold, dark and scary in those
rabbit burrows. Your ferret would prefer to be cuddled up with you
in a safe, warm place. Hey, what did a rabbit ever do to you?"
Well hey, what did a cow, pig or chicken ever do to you? I was just
about to hurl this absurd book across the room and then remembered
it cost £13.99 and it would be wiser to return it to the shop.
But really, a book about ferrets that tells you not to use ferrets
for ferreting? Whatever next? Far better is Jackie Drakeford's book Working
Ferrets: Selection, Training and Sport. Yes, animals that work
for you, that is what we want.
