I've been ferret-sitting all week. Yes, you read that correctly: ferret-sitting. As in going against nature to make sure a rodent stays alive for five days. And cleaning up after it too. And sometimes even picking it up. Ugh. Mostly I just talked to it like it was a cute little baby and then recoiled in horror when it came near. I should say "he". His name was Munch.


(And his name still IS Munch....)















No really, it wasn't that bad, just a little strange. He was allowed to run free over the house. He had newspapers in certain places, but I found little surprises around the house at random times. Other than these, it was fine. I relaxed at their house and had a great time, a nice retreat from the world. I read an almost entire book. That was fun.