The first thing my friends say when they see me nowadays is “How’s the horrible polecat?”, they are not referring to me as said polecat you understand, no they are asking after the health of the erstwhile Finzean Ferret (a.k.a. Horrible Polecat).
They seem to revel in news of his antics and the trouble he has caused. Not content with having zapped out the entire electric system by peeing on live cables within 24 hours of his arrival here, he continues to amaze with his total lack of any respect for property or people for that matter.
I have come to the conclusion that there is no such thing as negativity in the weasel/polecat/ferrety mind. Life is all or nothing, usually all. They just don’t do the whole negativity thing that we do, it is not in their mental dictionary. Instead words like whoopeeeee, yes, now and me, me, me feature highly. As does “Hey Mum watch me climb up the welsh dresser and abseil off your Anthropologie plate collection”, it is right up there with “Whoohoo look what I found in your handbag, let me steal it and hide it somewhere you’ll never be able to find/reach it again”. Nothing, but nothing is sacred. Nothing is safe now.
Life is a game to be played at high speed and then flop out wherever you are and have a kip.
“Aaah but he is just so cute, like a little bear” they cry on first glimpsing the frightful Finzean. Yes, I agree, and we all know the best place for a cute bear don’t we – Jellystone Park, not my living room!
So life is as normal up here on Walton’s Mountain. The animals still rule the roost and keep us on our toes, get on our nerves and generally make the days a whole lot more interesting than they ever could be without them.
They do what they like, when they like and sleep all over the place.
The Lady Of The House (a.k.a. Minou) has her basket beside the computer on my desk, oh and Harry, well the old man is still king of the castle and sleeps with his own teddy bear.
Now that’s what I call cute!