Rascal

I was over at AH's duplex (before we lived together) one day and saw something small and furry run out his sliding glass door. I went out on the patio to take a look. There, staring up at me, was the smallest ferret I have ever seen. I knelt down and said "Awww, come here you poor baby." and she ran right up to me and jumped in my lap. I made flyers and posted them around that part of town, I called the local animal shelters, NOTHING.

We considered her ours after 2 weeks of waiting and I went out and bought all the ferret goodies. A very LARGE cage, a corner shaped litter box (they're supposed to like them better), a hammock and lots of toys. I even bought ferret cologne to help her feel like a little lady.

My daughter (the animal whisperer) became immediately attached to her and named her Rascal. She played and cuddled with her constantly. She would drag our sofa blanket through the house and Rascal would hop on for the ride. When Jenna would call her, Rascal would come running, playfully skipping a little sideways and then standing on her hind legs. My daughter would giggle over her for hours.

AH was supposed to come over for dinner one night. I did some cleaning up around the house and left for the grocery store to get the food. I was back in about an hour. Ah showed up and started helping me in the kitchen (yeah, he USED to do that). I heard him yelp and turned to see what was wrong. He had opened the dishwasher and pulled out the bottom rack. There was Rascal, towards the back, laying over a bowl with a horribly twisted expression on her face. She must have crawled in right before I turned the dishwasher on and left for the store.

The realization of what I had done knocked the wind out of me. I screamed and crumpled to the kitchen floor at AH's feet. I LOST IT. I could hear my daughter coming out of her room. I yelled for her to go in her room and stay there until I told her it was OK to come out. I couldn't let her see what I did. In the midst of my hysterics, I scrambled off the floor and to the closet for a hand towel to wrap around her and a shoe box to put her in and took her in my room. AH still stood there in the kitchen speechless. I don't blame him for that. It was beyond horrible.

I tried to collect myself and asked AH to please send Jenna to my room. She walked in, took one look at me and said "It's Rascal, huh Mom." I nodded through my tears. I told her she drowned in there and I was sure that it was very quick and that she didn't suffer. I let my daughter say her goodbyes, because I think that's important, and put Rascal's box in the trunk of my car until I could figure out a place to bury her. We lived in apartments at the time.

This happened over 3 years ago and I am still traumatized. I replay in my mind what that little animal must have went through. Hot, soapy water coming at you from all angles and no way out, and what if she somehow made it through to the drying cycle, still alive but every inch of her body horribly burned. I haven't been able to take hot showers since and every time I put my hand under tap water that's too warm, I think of how hot that water must have been. I think of her EVERY TIME. And it was over a year before I could use a dishwasher again.

I know it was an accident and I would never hurt an animal on purpose but I don't know how long it takes for the guilt to go away. If I only would have taken a better look before I shut the door. Or if I would have not left the house right away, maybe I would have heard a noise and gotten her out in time.

My friends let us bury her in their back yard. We stayed to visit them for a while after and eventually ended up drinking, listening to music and playing pool in their garage. We were all talking and my friend asked if we were going to get a new ferret. I said that I couldn't do it right now. They're such curious creatures and I was too worried something might happen again if we got another one. My friend suggested that next time we get one that was "dishwasher safe".

I didn't think it was funny.