Speaking of small furry mammals...

[rivka]

I was out in our courtyard when I heard a rustling under the back steps, and saw a hint of movement. My first thought, of course, was "rat." But then I caught a glimpse of a profile - just a flash - that didn't look ratlike.

Baby raccoon? That was what it looked like, but it didn't seem likely for downtown Baltimore. I was mystified. And nervous, because a raccoon out in the middle of the day is probably sick, and a sick raccoon in Maryland is likely to have rabies.

We've fenced off the area next to the house in a very rudimentary way - just a strip of garden fencing secured to a post at either end. It's meant to keep Alex out of the area that holds our garbage cans, the grill, the various non-baby-friendly items stored under the back steps, and our downstairs neighbors' window well. Whatever the animal was, it was moving back and forth behind the fence. I caught some flashes of brown fur

A little face popped up from the drainspout and looked at me for a long minute. Long enough to make it clear that this was an animal used to being around humans. Soon enough, a long sinuous body followed the little face. Ferret! Yeah, definitely a ferret. He moved up until he was right under our lowest back step and peered at me.

Michael came through with some supplies. "Michael?" I said conversationally. "There's a ferret in our yard."

"A ferret?" He came out to look. "So there is. Huh."

Now Alex had spotted the thing, and was watching it intently. The ferret chose this moment to come right out into the open yard and start exploring. Alex was thrilled. I was rather less thrilled.

"It's obviously someone's pet," I said. It poked around, inspecting the plants and bricks and sandbox in a leisurely fashion. I tried to think of how we could find the owners quickly. In a neighborhood full of small apartment buildings, it didn't seem very likely. And we certainly didn't have any place to keep him - not with a toddler around.

So, reluctantly, I called Animal Control. I stressed to the dispatcher that we were definitely dealing with a pet, not a feral animal - his sleek healthy fatness and total lack of fear made that clear. My plan was to post signs around the neighborhood afterward, so that the owner would know where to go to pick the poor little guy up.

I went back into the yard with a laundry basket, and tipped it over Mr. Ferret. But he quickly managed to slither underneath. Before I could trap him again, he had ducked under the high wooden fence into the next yard.

A few minutes later, I heard a voice from beyond the fence. "I don't know. I'm going to look out here again."

"Excuse me," I called out. "Did you lose a ferret?"

"Yes! Yes! Oh, thank God."

Not so fast. I explained that we had seen him, but that he had crossed over into their courtyard. The ferret owner wandered up and down making encouraging chirping noises. Obviously he wasn't in their yard anymore.

Suddenly, a small furry body tore by me at top speed and vanished under the fence. This time I got a clear look at a naked tail. I yelped.

"Did you find him? Is he over there?"

"No, no, that was a rat." And then I stopped to think. "Why would a rat be running around here in the daytime anyway? ...Because it's being chased by a ferret?" I followed the path the rat had taken. "He must be in the yard behind me."

The ferret owner climbed onto the top of the fence and made his precarious way over into the yard behind us. Once he was on the far side, he was able to lift the latch and walk into our yard, holding the ferret - who was looking very innocent indeed - close to his chest.

Thus Oscar (the ferret) and James (the neighbor) were happily reunited, and we all got a chance to scritch his ears as they left.

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[huladavid.livejournal.com]

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