Matthew Lickona 12:45 p.m., Dec. 11
Three years after Tundra moved in, Portia asked April if she could leave her pet ferret, Maynard, with us for a few months until she could get her living situation straightened out. Portia also worked at the hair salon in PB with April and Jessica. April was confident that this time our pet sitting duties really would be just temporary. The reason being that Maynard was semi exotic.
In California, ferrets are illegal to own. And if you weren’t careful, and you somehow accidentally angered them, your neighbors might decide to report you to the California Department of Fish and Game, who would then come to your house to confiscate your ferret, euthanize him, and then, just for good measure, fine you extensively for threatening the delicate ecological balance of the state. So Maynard was not only good companionship, but he also had the added attraction of being against the law. And Portia loved the attention she got when she took Maynard to parties or for leashed walks on the beach. So I knew Portia probably would want Maynard back, and I grudgingly agreed to let him stay.
Grudgingly, I say, because I felt that Maynard was an invader in Tundra and Elaine’s home. Maynard would disrupt the natural order of things and upset our cats. April rolled her eyes and told me that our cats weren’t that delicate and that Maynard was a perfectly acceptable addition to our menagerie. It wasn’t as if Maynard were a pit bull or a ten-foot long python. And, anyway, it was only for a few months, so why was I getting myself all worked up?
“A few months, huh?” I said, nodding my head knowingly. “We’ll see,” I added. “We’ll just see.”
April sighed dramatically.