Dear Diary, Ferret Flu Smells like Poopy

Dear Diary,
Sorry I haven't written in a while. But you have to understand how horrible it is to come down with the Ferret Flu. I know you've heard of this, it's been all over the news. It's like the bird flu, and swine flu, except it comes from ferrets.It all started the other day when Mrs. Petrosky had to pick up some potatoes and kale from the grocery store. Being a sometimes nice lady, she asked Lulu and I if we would like to ride with her to the store. Since we hadn't been off the chicken farm, except to go to Cotton Plains Middle school, in the three weeks that we'd been here we said, "yes ma'am!" We all jumped in the orange truck and drove thirty minutes to the nearest town, which is called New Lazarus-population 897. Well whadyaknow! Right next to the little grocery store with the rusty doors and falling sign, was Timble Gin's Pet Store.

Mr. Gin, as it turns out, was suspected of murder in the late 80's when a lonely old lady was brutally attacked with an apple cutter. They know it was an apple cuter because supposedly the guy that killed her tried to slice her stomach into neat little wedges. Turns out that the lady was very plump and so all it did was slice into her belly fat. She died when the apple slicer was quickly removed, by an unknown guy, causing her to stumble backwards in pain, land on a toy truck that was her grandson's, and roll backwards into the stair banister, flip over it smacking onto a chandelier, and crash to the floor with such momentum that the floorboards caved in around her. However, she didn't die until later that evening, after this unknown guy had runaway, a huge tornado rolled through town. However, she being stuck into the broken pieces of floorboard was unable to seek the appropriate shelter and thus died.

Since the tornado was what killed her the defense of Mr. Gin argued that even if he had been the one to try and cut her belly with an apple slicer, what killed the old lady was the faulty banister which the lady knew about sine she had just recently called a repair man to fix it. Therefore the defense argued the lady committed suicide and Mr. Gin was freed.

And now Mr. Gin owns his very own pet store to which local children are strictly forbidden from entering because the parents fear for their babies' lives. Lulu and I not being local children did not know this. Mrs. Petrosky not feeling the gravitational force to keep us close to her bosoms, did not care to tell us. So naturally, we asked Mrs. Petrosky if we could go play with the puppy inside and pet the cute baby kittens that the white poster in the window said were free, not including tax. After Mrs. Petrosky said yes, we ran into the store like it was a candy shop and saw the parrots, snakes, and even a baby naked mole rat, but we weren't really enthused until we saw the ferrets.

Mr. Gin was pretty nice for a murder suspect. He let us hold the ferrets and told us they were from the native lands of Alaska, or Argentina--something like that, and that they had magical powers to ward off evil spirits. He told us they didn't carry fleas and could even be potty trained to use a liter box. I really wanted one.

But then Mrs. Petrosky came in with her bags of potatoes and kale and said it was time to go and that no we couldn't get a ferret, because ferrets eat chickens. We all climbed back into the orange truck and drove thirty minutes home, leaving the town of New Lazarus--population 897 behind.

It wasn't until I got home the Lulu and I started feelin really horrible. We couldn't eat the potatoes and kale Mrs. Petrosky had fixed for dinner, and it wasn't even because they looked like beetles crushed into green pulp. Our backs begin feelin really awful, like rocks had been jammed inside, and are heads starting feelin like anchors on a ship. Mrs. Petrosky sent us to bed but Mr. Petrosky refused to call the doctor until the next morning to make sure we weren't just trying to get out of feeding the chickens.

Next morning, we we're so sick with the ferret flu we couldn't even lift our arms. Mrs. Petrosky said we smelled like nasty rodents, and said we had to stay home from school until the Doctor said we weren't infected anymore.

So Diary, you see it's not that I didn't want to write in you, it's just my pencil wouldn't stay in my hand.
Have to go,
Bellaray Dave