Ok. I have to just come out and say it straight away. My name is Pepper Ferret and I have a penchant for green balls. Green plastic balls of course. The type that come in a hooman child’s playpen, along with red (rubbish!), blue (boring!!) and yellow (yuk!!!) balls.
Chili and me have been here a few weeks now and are slowly settling into routine, although I’m not yet so institutionalized that I’ve given up looking for escape opportunities at every possibility (found a few but was thwarted very early on).
Our daily routine generally centres on the Cinnamon (angora) Bun (as I’ve taken to calling him (much to his chagrin)) mainly as I’ve taken to sleeping on him as often as possible. He is used to the world revolving around him however and I think he is quite happy with this set up.
Our day starts just before dawn when I get up to have a… <cough>, visit the water closet before stocking up on kibble and water (homebrew I think). I then do a few pull-ups on the shelf, a few bench-presses using the litter tray and then jog on the spot for a few minutes before warming down with some yoga on the cage bars. Then it’s a powernap before the hooman gets up, at which point we all line up on the hammock and stare her down until she relents and opens the cell so we can all file (bounce) into the exercise yard for our hour’s worth of space. Or peace and quiet as I like to call it.
Chili and The Bun go bouncing off together, dunno what they do; catch butterflies and chase dandelions probably.
But not me!!! Oh no, I have a plan. I take myself off and use one of the green balls as an exercise ball dribbling it up and down the lengths of the yard to keep up my cardio. If I’m going to get out of this place I need to keep all of wits and my fitness. Can’t be asleep on the job, no sirree!*
Chili is being his usual excitable self, getting into anything and everything and causing chaos wherever he goes. However I actually encourage him in this and have even been known to wind him up, only to then make sure he tells me every detail of every place he has found/been/broken/got himself trapped/climbed up/fallen down and/or pooed on. He honestly has no idea. About anything. Ever.
After the hour is up we are taken back to our cell which is when I ‘debrief’ Chili, while the Cinnamon Bun chatters on about how the hooman looked at him most, cuddled him most and kissed him most, while asking if his hair looked okay from this or that angle.
I must be patient and bide my time: gazpacho soup is a dish best served cold, as someone once said. My conclusions with regard to The Bun thus far is that while he is incredibly annoying and insufferably conceited he is in the main, as a famous author once said of the ground, ‘Mostly Harmless‘.
*Other than between the hours of 00:00 – 07:00hrs, 07:05 – 10:15, 10:20 – 14:32, 14:37 – 17:02, 17:07 – 20:00, and 20:32 – 23:59hrs.