So, today I see this ferret being taken for a walk. The ferret also sees me and immediately wraps his lead around my foot while investigating what must be, to him, some kind of walking tower. This is good as it gives me the opportunity to ask the owner if I can take a picture “yes that’s ok” only in the time it takes for me to ask, the ferret has spotted my trouser leg. Now I always thought it was no more than a music hall joke about ferrets and trousers, but this one is now making a determined lunge for what is clearly an irresistible tunnel, and the only thing stopping him from disappearing further up my leg is the fact that his lead is still wrapped around my foot. Some disentanglement ensues and while this is going on the ferret is now exploring my fingers. He really is cute and, reassured by the owner “he’s very friendly” I tickle him behind the ears. This goes down well and we are now having great fun, me waggling my fingers and him frolicking and pouncing while I tickle him.

However this presents a problem because my right hand is the one doing the tickling, meaning I can’t get near the camera button. While I’m trying to switch hands, he gives my fingers a couple of nips. These are really no more than a cat might give so we continue playing, and I continue manoeuvring, but then there is a bit of a change in mood and the next bite is definitely not playful. I now have a ferret hanging off my finger.

My first reaction is to stand up. In retrospect I can now see this was a bit of a mistake. I am thinking the ferret will let go as he leaves the ground. But to the ferret, now finding himself about four feet from the pavement, his only means of not dropping this distance is his teeth. I suspect this is why he sinks them in a bit further, just to make sure. A brief but interesting conversation ensues:

“Are you ok?”
“Yes I’m fine”
“But my ferret is hanging from your finger”
“Yes, I know”
“He doesn’t usually do this”
“If you play with unfamiliar ferrets you have to expect to get bitten”
“He must be biting quite deep to hang on like that”
“Yes I suppose so”
“He’s probably hungry”

By which time the owner has moved herself over to the ferret and, giving him some support, he now lets go.

“Naughty Peter, you mustn’t bite people (Peter is now lightly smacked on the nose).
“Are you ok?”
“No, really, I’m fine, look, he doesn’t seem to have drawn blood”

We both inspect the neat but somewhat angry looking puncture (the bleeding starts later). I then take Peter’s picture (not a very good one). Peter’s owner puts him back on the ground and in an instant the Ferret is off – he’s seen another trouser leg, although because these are ¾ length shorts Peter is having to jump to get even close to the bottom of them.

The photograph in today’s contact sheet was taken a few minutes after this encounter. Peter, his owner and I were heading in the same direction and I decide to take advantage of her now being on her phone to have another go. I feel I earned this second chance. Later, looking at the expression on his face in the photograph, I wondered, briefly, if there was any sign of apology for the bite, but I know damn well the bottom of one of my trouser legs was directly behind the camera.