Pop opens the cage and you rattle out with a purpose.
Days and Days without "play" you spend your time out of the cage contemplating the barriers to your freedom.
How does this open? Is it worth getting inside?
What’s on the other side of that gate? How do I get over?

I could watch your mind at play and delight in your ability to thwart my attempts at kitchen security.
You never knew that it was for your own good nor would you accept it if you could understand what I was telling you.
Presley; Ferret Commando. That is how I will always remember you. "The smartest ferret I ever seen," I would tell people, bragging about how you had broke through my latest feeble attempt at keep you from that dangerous territory.

I still have one question that can't be answered by my imagination. Why do you come ito our bedroom when you slip out of the cage at night? The kitchen and bathrooms are all empty. They're all waiting for you to knock over the toilet brushes. The pantry is full of yummy and potentially deadly non-ferret foods and yet you come into our bedroom at three a.m. and wake us with a start from our deep sleep. "There’s a ferret in the room" became a common utterance.

You were the first to bite me in your little jealous ferret rage. You were also the first one that I tried to please because if it was fun for Pres, it was fun for all. I know that in the end you were happy throughout your seven years. A good long run for a ferret.