Well, was that an interesting drive home. I’m coming into town after work, getting ready to make the turn to the stables, when I see a ferret running across the road – four lanes of busy traffic. No one hits him, so I pull over and walk back to get him.
He lets me pick him up, biting me once as I did it. Fair enough. I then realise that I have nothing in the car to contain him with. Loose, strange ferrets in the car aren’t very conducive to safe, careful driving, let me tell you. He bounced around the interior of the car like a mad thing. He dug through my purse and scattered my stable things. He tried to get under my feet; I threw him in back. He bounced back, and I tried driving with one hand while I held him on the passenger seat with the other. Little bastard wasn’t shy about biting – I have deep bites and scratches all over that hand. I threw him in back again. He jumped up on the passenger headrest and waved at all the passing cars. Threw him in back. He climbed up the back of my headrest and rooted around in my hair until I pushed him off. This is a country where they do you for eating an apple while you drive – I would hate to think what the cops would think about driving while restraining a ferret.
I finally made it home, stinking to high heaven and bleeding all over my white blouse and favourite black suit.
All I have to say is, when I go to take the driving test, they BETTER DAMN WELL NOT FAIL ME. Anyone who can drive a manual transmission with one hand, shifting and signalling and throwing ferrets, without having an accident, is a DRIVING GOD.