The Ferrett (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} theferrett) wrote,@ 2008-03-19 09:59:00 |
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Don't Ever Say I Don't Do Reader Requests
They've written in by the hundreds. "Ferrett," the readers cry. "When, oh when, will we see a picture of you with a kinkajou on your head?" And by God, never say I don't deliver.
The photos are from the Purim children's festival we went to with Eric Meyer and his wife and our um-child Carolyn, where the basement was filled with several adorable animals. In this case, the kinkajou - referred to, hilariously by everyone, as the "kinka-Jew" thanks to the Purim festival - was like a cross between a ferret and a monkey, so you know it won my heart. I totally want one as a pet.
Sure, they start at $400 and go upwards. Sure, they live for twenty years. Sure, they're as smart as a ferret and have a larger body size, so they will destroy your entire house in a fit of feral curiosity. Sure, they bite hard with needle-sharp teeth if you don't train them. Sure, they're nocturnal, so they do most of their damage at night. And sure, they apparently eat by flinging their food around a lot.
But look! That cute little prehensile tail! I wannit!
Also, they had a baby grizzly (five weeks), a baby black bear (two weeks), and a baby leopard. The leopard in particular was fascinating because it looked like a large, scrawny cat with bad fur, mewling and squeaking adorably as it stalked inside its little cage. They brought it out to feed it milk - you can bottle-feed a leopard for about ten weeks before they start biting off the nipples -
And the leopard's eyes? Not cuddly in the least. Just these cold, green slits of predator's eyes, staring up at you with a dispassionate disinterest, having marked you as neither prey nor threat and thus of no concern whatsoever. It was, even at its tiny size, a being to be Respected. But those eyes carried the promise that one day, it might rip you to moist ribbons and swallow the shredded remains of your throat, and none of that would bother it at all.
But the kinkajou was so cute!
They've written in by the hundreds. "Ferrett," the readers cry. "When, oh when, will we see a picture of you with a kinkajou on your head?" And by God, never say I don't deliver.
The photos are from the Purim children's festival we went to with Eric Meyer and his wife and our um-child Carolyn, where the basement was filled with several adorable animals. In this case, the kinkajou - referred to, hilariously by everyone, as the "kinka-Jew" thanks to the Purim festival - was like a cross between a ferret and a monkey, so you know it won my heart. I totally want one as a pet.
Sure, they start at $400 and go upwards. Sure, they live for twenty years. Sure, they're as smart as a ferret and have a larger body size, so they will destroy your entire house in a fit of feral curiosity. Sure, they bite hard with needle-sharp teeth if you don't train them. Sure, they're nocturnal, so they do most of their damage at night. And sure, they apparently eat by flinging their food around a lot.
But look! That cute little prehensile tail! I wannit!
Also, they had a baby grizzly (five weeks), a baby black bear (two weeks), and a baby leopard. The leopard in particular was fascinating because it looked like a large, scrawny cat with bad fur, mewling and squeaking adorably as it stalked inside its little cage. They brought it out to feed it milk - you can bottle-feed a leopard for about ten weeks before they start biting off the nipples -
And the leopard's eyes? Not cuddly in the least. Just these cold, green slits of predator's eyes, staring up at you with a dispassionate disinterest, having marked you as neither prey nor threat and thus of no concern whatsoever. It was, even at its tiny size, a being to be Respected. But those eyes carried the promise that one day, it might rip you to moist ribbons and swallow the shredded remains of your throat, and none of that would bother it at all.
But the kinkajou was so cute!
