This is too much cyootness in one place!
When I was a wee thing growing up in the Aussie bush, a depression reduced our family income to virtually nothing. Perhaps the pollies called it a recession. All I knew was that food was .. not exactly scarce, but it seemed there was never quite enough to go round the table more than once … and my father was away a lot.
After a while he was home all the time, and things became extra tense between my parents. One day he built a long cage out of overlapped chicken wire and rough timber. When I stood on tiptoe my nose scarcely reached the bottom of it, and it towered over me like a great mysterious thing, that needed to be explored. Suddenly, a ball of orange fur with two little brown eyes and a black nose appeared right on the other side of the wire, batted me on the nose and disappeared underneath a pile of old rags and newspapers at the other end of the cage.
My father had very strong opinions of what little girls should be interested in, and ferrets wasn’t one of them, so I never saw the ferret again, (and learned another lesson in keeping secrets) but every time we had rabbit for dinner, I thanked my little ferret-y friend.