Polecats and men stuff.

Saturday 15th May 2004.

I??ve got less than five minutes to begin this entry before I have to
dash off on another call. I??m hungover bless me. The world is too
loud, but actually I feel pretty good. I might be forty. Oops lies
Susan, no I??m not, I??m forty one now but I can go out on a pub crawl,
dance in a nightclub till three and still be up for a seven thirty
first call.

I went out with Kez last night. Rick??s in Amsterdam but I had a very
drunken call from him at some ungodly hour while I was still out. I
hope he??s having a good time though I dread to think what state he??ll
be in.

We had a great night. I wouldn??t like it every time we go out but it
made a change. Kez decided that instead of doing the karaoke bars as we
usually do, we??d go on a pub crawl round Barrow. We even did the
infamous Gaza Strip which we normally avoid like the plague. It??s a
street of clubs, that??s all there is on the street, every building is
a bar/club. The average age is twelve and police presence is heavy
because there is always trouble. Once every couple of years or so,
it??s nice to have a wander down there and watch the Neanderthals come
out to play. Apart from anything it was on the way to Scorpio??s and my
feet were killing me in my stilettos.

We received lots of male attention, more me than Kez which was
flattering. Kez is by far the best looking and slimmer of us, she??s
beautiful but she can throw ice-maiden daggers with lethal accuracy.
She very rarely gets approached by men because she??s quite stand off
ish. I love talking to anybody and will strike up a conversation with
local drunks, yobs, women peering in the mirror, people waiting to be
served, police and doormen. I don??t see the point of going out and not
talking to people. Suddenly, I??m not the fattest person in the room
anymore and I can??t tell you how good that feels. Even at my worst, I
had no problem chatting to people but now I don??t have to be the clown
to be accepted. A bloke came up and out of the blue, he asked if he
could take me out for a drink one night. He seemed really genuine too
and wasn??t hard on the eyes. It was very flattering but I told him
I??ve got a gorgeous boyfriend who I??m very much in love with. It was
still nice to be asked though. It??s also nice to have the choice. I
know that I??m not with Rick because I??ve got no other offers. I??m
with him because he genuinely makes me happy. Before, I??ve always
struck up a relationship with the first man who??s been nice to me. Tat
used to come and talk to me when I was out with Leah. He wasn??t very
bright, he was a terminal alcoholic but he had kind eyes and wanted to
be with me. He??s a good bloke but he has nothing to give to a
relationship and leeches onto women who will take him in and look after
him. I stuck living like that, coming second to the drink, for eighteen
months before calling it a day. With Rick, it??s completely different.
He doesn??t want anything from me (sometimes I wish he did), I don??t
want anything from him but we??re happy.

Kez is spending twenty five grand on a new kitchen. Bloody hell, how
expensive can a kitchen be? I could buy my entire three bedroomed house
for that.

I??m reading The Face by Dean Koontz. Koontzie is my favourite author,
but so far, this isn??t one of my fave books. It??s a little slow to
get into.

We are getting, sorry, Marty is getting, two polecat hobs this week.
I??ve been railroaded by the lads into letting him have them against my
better judgement. I want to be less tied to home, not more. I really
don??t want anymore pets.

I??m hoping that back end of the year I??ll be able to take Marty on
holiday for a couple of weeks half board somewhere. It??s going to mean
increasing my hours again but it??ll be worth it. He??s been asking for
three years now, why we don??t go abroad anymore. I don??t care where
we go as long as it??s cheap, warm and somewhere we??ve never been. If
I don??t manage it this year, then I??m going to make it priority for
pre-season next year. I think it will do us both good. Oh well, got to
go again, I??ve got a few free hours now but I??ve said I??ll have the
shop for Martha this avvy. I just want to go to bed! I don??t mind
though because she??s a good mate to me.

Monday 17th May 2004.

Don??t know how far I??ll get with this before I have to stop but
let??s give it a go anyway. It??s almost five and at quarter past I
have to take Martha to Bookers to stock up her shop and then on to
Tesco??s. Her empire has expanded this week by a freezer for
ice-lolly??s.

Rick is back from Amsterdam. He rang with all his news earlier. I??m
not sure if I??m getting the same man back as the one who went away
though. He??s been having pot in a wide variety of flavours and has
been frequenting sex shows, though not, he assures me the ladies, men
or he/she??s of the night. He has returned confused about the merits of
the great weed. ??What exactly *is* it supposed to do Sooz??? I think
he was expecting colours and fireworks. He tells a lovely story of
himself and Bob going, like well travelled men of the world, into a pot
shop for a ??spaceshake??. Fresh fruit, milk, crushed ice and cannabis
(sounds bloody revolting to me). Because they were both cannabis
virgins they decided to take it very slowly. The more worldly amongst
the group told them that it wouldn??t take effect immediately, so they
sat, sipped delicately and waited, half excited half terrified, for
Armageddon to hit. They waited and waited, eventually, ??with waiting
so long,?? for something monumental to happen they became a little bit
tired and weary. Finally, they went to the pub and got pissed.

After that they tried joints, sweets, brownies lollipops and whatever
else they could find with it subtly infused into the recipe. Rick liked
the sweets and returned home with the philosophy, ??Well you have to
experience everything, don??t you???

Apparently, every-so-often throughout the weekend, Rick or Bob would
say (probably drunkenly into their beer) ??Wouldn??t it be great if
Lynn and Sooz were here now??? Bless them and their nightly cup-of-tea.
I just felt really good that the sentence contained the word Sooz and
not Viv. I can??t see her approving of him indulging in such a terrible
drug. See how I judge? And I??ve never met her. Shame on you Sooz. For
all I know, she might smoke a quarter a week.

Martha and I had our first tiff on Saturday. She was very sweet
afterwards but at the time I was furious. I worked all Saturday morning
and was very tired after being up almost all night. I also felt very
fragile and not my best. I had agreed to have the shop for her again on
Saturday afternoon, she was going to an open day on the new ship in
Barrow. I impressed on her that she must be back by quarter to four at
the latest as I had a call in Ulverston at four. I was knackered and
could barely keep my eyes open. Martha was late. I was livid. The call
was a double handler and I couldn??t have picked a worse call to urn up
almost half an hour late for. The client??s husband is hot-headed and a
real mardy-arse. I knew he??d complain to my boss and that I was in
deep shit. I rang Martha at five to five to ask her where she was. She
had missed the bus and had to catch a later one. What really annoyed me
was the fact that she didn??t even apologise. She just told me to lock
up the shop and leave. In fairness, I was stroppy with her and didn??t
give her much of a chance to apologise. I really felt that she was
taking the piss because I??m so soft.

I rang work to say that I was on my way and asked them to let the
client know. All hell had already let loose and they??d had to bring in
extra cover to handle the call. M, the client??s husband, must have
been on the phone playing hell by one minute past four. They told me
shirtily not to bother going. It meant that I got an extra hour at
home.

By the time I saw Martha I had calmed down and made dinner for her as a
peace offering. She was full of apologies as soon as she walked through
the door and I felt a real shit for being so nasty with her. I told her
it didn??t matter but she insisted in paying me a tenner to reimburse
me for the late call. I felt awful. Especially as she??s been brilliant
to me lately and has helped me decorate my bathroom. She??s a good
mate. She??s also editing this for me so I can??t call her a narky cow
because she??ll play hell with me for mis-use of comma??s or something
??

I am in love. Forget Rick for the moment, I have two new men in my
life. They are called Mr Darcy and Little Bear. They are five week old
polecats and they are adorable.

It??s Tuesday 18th now, another day has come and gone.

So, back to our babies, Col, railroaded me into letting Marty have them
for his birthday. They arrived a little earlier than expected because
their mum dried up and rejected them and they have to be hand reared.
Guess who gets the job of feeding them every four bloody hours day and
night? Worry! You??ve never seen the like. When we had the sanctuary
people kept bringing in polecats, ferrets stoats, badgers we ended up
with quite a motley crew of mustelids so I kept the purest polecats and
began breeding them, bringing in new bloodlines to breed big choddy
cats. I had dozens of litters but none have given me the worry that
these two little polecat people have done. Before, they always had
their mother. Weaning was no problem at all, I didn??t fret about it,
just introduced food and supplement lactol and water to their hutch.
When they were ready they took it and in the meantime they had their
mum??s backup supply on top. We lost the odd runt from large litters,
that??s expected, but I had success with taking from large litters and
introducing the odd kitt to smaller litters to bring the sickly ones
on.

These two characters are a whole different ball game. They are just
five weeks old and too young to be self sufficient. When they came, the
day before yesterday, they were so tiny and weak that, certainly,
Little Bear, seemed destined not to make it. Darcy is far more advanced
and by yesterday was climbing everything in sight. Bear, the runt, and
yet twice the size of his brother, is so fat and feeble that he??d need
the leg muscles of an elephant to move around. He was still very
wobbly, one eye still not fully open, tottering round and falling over
often. Col had compensated for him being the litter runt by taking the
others out and leaving Bear unchallenged gorging hours. The result is
one fat, lazy, weak little polecat.

Monday night, after having them indoors all day, I settled them into
their hutch for the night. They had an overabundance of thick shavings
and straw. I didn??t want them getting cold. Then, we retired for four
blissful hours sleep before I had to get up for the next feed.

I closed my eyes, relaxed back on soft pillows, felt sleep closing in
on me and then, just as dreams were pricking at my eyelids, Pow! I was
wide awake. Words kept repeating through my brain, parvo, hyperthermia,
distemper, dehydration. There was no way any sleep was going to come so
I gave in and, five minutes after lying down, I got up, dressed and
went to sit cross legged in front of the hutch to watch over my young
charges. My greatest concern through night time hours was hyperthermia.
I opened the top loading part of the hutch and peered in. Young they
may be, stupid they aren??t. They had dug themselves a six inch deep
nest and were curled snugly fast asleep. They didn??t stir when I
looked at them. Ignorance ?K or death? Maybe they weren??t sleeping.
Maybe they were frozen into polecat pops. Without care or gentleness I
prodded and was greeted with an indignant squeal. Okay, that??s good.
Not dead yet then.

I repeated the prodding throughout the night. Each time their body temp
was a damned sight higher than my own. Sitting out in the yard on a
cold stone floor at four in the morning isn??t nearly as warm as being
nestled on my six pillows snuggled under two duvets.

The babies survived the night, the only risk to their health and well
being was sleep depravation. Now we had the daylight hours, less of a
worry ?K until they brought their own set of problems.

They want to sleep all day. Of course they bloody do, they are babies
and some idiot kept prodding them awake all night. Were they sleeping
too much? Is this normal? I have bred hundreds of polecats and the only
time I lost a minutes sleep was when, Twist, went walkabout for three
days. What??s wrong with me? Is it some weird phantom mothering kicking
in at the imminent loss of my human children??s childhood?

Worse, what was wrong with them? Worms, diabetes, dislocated hips,
mange? My main problem yesterday was dehydration. Kitts need plenty of
fuel, so the general rule is to let them eat as much as they want to.
No problem there. They??re greedy little buggers and Bear likes his
food bless him. Their kidney functions and bowels were working well,
that was another one to scratch of the worry bead list. They were only
drinking about a fluid ounce of liquid a day. Oh my God, is that
enough? Little bodies with rapid heartbeats can dehydrate and die in a
matter of hours. They didn??t seem to have a clue what to do with their
water bottles. After being prodded at regular intervals through the
night they now had to suffer the indignity of having their heads thrust
into warm fluid every time they opened their eyes.

I rushed to Pets At home. Twenty quid for a sack of complete ferret
food, it carries the name of James Wellbeloved (don??t you just love
that name?) one of the world??s leading authorities on mustelids.
Having his name on the sack must have at least doubled the price. Eight
quid for the smallest tin of lactol, milk substitute, what a rip off, a
flipping great tin that was only half full on breaking the seal. And
get this, it recommended *seven* scoops to every pint. Of course,
brimming with new enthusiasm, I made up a pint immediately on getting
home. A few fluid ounces would have done. I made it thick so that they
could hunt out the scent of it. Mustelids have excellent sense of
smell, they could have found this stuff if I??d put it in London. They
loved it and learned how to use their water bottles, two, one of which
now contained a pint of lactol, in several seconds flat. I bought a
heavy, non tip, feeding bowl for six quid, a squeaky toy to train them
to come for food. Useful if they ever escape. Not so useful when the
neighbours see me wandering the streets at night squeaking a rubber
monster and crying out for literary characters and bears. I bought
conditioning powders, half a Brazilian rainforest of shavings, enough
straw to stable down every horse in the Grand National, two harnesses
that they might grow into in six months or so, toys and treats for Kali
and Max so that they don??t get jealous. I only just stopped short of
the two chipmonks and monkstation (cage) that would have set me back
another two hundred quid. See, I was sensible. I called at the butchers
and bought best fillet steak, none of this cheap fatty mince for my
babies. I got the butcher to mince it though his finest setting. I
bought a piece of tripe, some rabbit steak (finely minced) and some
chicken livers.

There, now I was prepared for every eventuality. The polecats got
steak, gawd knows what we??re going to eat for the rest of the week. I
hand fed and lactolled them at regular intervals between clients.

When Marty came home and after Col Sandy and Martha had come for tea,
we got them out to play in the house. Poor Bear is so fat that he can
barely support himself. It took me all of three seconds to convince
myself that he??d broken his back. Col had to wrench the phone out of
my hand to stop me calling the vets there and then. ??Mother, he??s
fine. He just hasn??t got his legs properly yet. What the hell??s wrong
with you? Chill.??

I had to admit that they had come on remarkably in just twenty four
hours. Darcy has formed an immediate bond with Marty. He follows him
everywhere and climbs all over him. Bear follows Darcy so they make
quite procession, the three of them.

I slept better last night, but woke this morning convinced that the
none existent blizzard of last night had claimed them. Col convinced me
to cut out their four o clock feed. I fed them at two before going to
bed and Marty fed them again at eight this morning. They are doing
brilliantly. This morning, Darcy climbed the full front of his wire
mesh, Bear, with great effort managed to raise his head. I think they
are going to live.

I am working a night shift tonight and have calls on and off all day
today and tomorrow and I??m still trying to find time to finish
decorating the bathroom. Rick is coming at five on Thursday morning
when he finishes work. I might just manage to mumble ??Distemper,
hypothermia, mange?? at him when he comes in, before falling sleep. I
can??t wait to see him. It??s less than a week, but it seems much
longer.

Today one of my clients told me that my lipstick perfectly matched my
top. That??s nice, but the worrying thing is that I had on a plum
coloured top (uniform in the wash) and *no* lippy. Plum for God??s
sake! Am I dying and nobody??s bothered to tell me? Hell, the thought
of having the time to apply fresh coats of plum lippy every morning. It
takes me all my time to get up, showered, have a fag, feed the animals
and yell at Marty before leaving for work in the morning. Three times
now I??ve left the house in my slippers and have had to go back to
change them.

I am hoping for an easy shift tonight, but doubt it will be. Apparently
my client is a demented, wandering aggressive with an insatiable
appetite for anything she can fit in her mouth. Her favourite morsel is
pieces of unfinished jig-saw, yummy. Now I know where to look for all
those elusive last pieces of car boot jiggies.