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The Story of Mischief the Ferret
by Pam Bos

It was a rainy Tuesday evening in February around 8:00 pm when I took out the trash and came back inside to have a seat on the couch. Then it hit me, Mischief my small sable female ferret was missing. Oh NO!!! I looked everywhere; inside and out. I checked everywhere twice. I then began the daunting task of looking outside. It was then 3 o'clock in the morning. I gave up and tried to fall asleep but with out luck. The next day, I called in to work to continue the search.

I first called the Indianapolis Humane Shelter and they put me in touch with The Circle City Ferret Club. They had not gotten any stray ferrets in the last day. I also called a lot of pet shops and veterinarian offices to see if any one had brought in a ferret. Still no luck.

It has now been 2 days since she has been missing. My search continues. I looked in the dumpster and along the ditch and under cars, the whole time jingling her favorite fuzzy bell toy. I looked for 2 days straight. Wednesday night at about 11:30 PM, a guy, was walking his dog. Just like everyone else I had seen, I asked him if he had seen a ferret. He said "No". Then, he turned around and said, "Yes". I was so excited. "Where? When?" I asked. He said that his name was James, and that he had seen her under a car and took her up into the storage room and given her some water. He said it was the night before last at around 8:15 PM "Well, where is she now" I asked. He then informed me that he had taken her to a pet shop called Uncle Bills near our apartment complex and had given her to a customer that was in there. James went on to describe the employee that was in there and a description of the person that had actually taken her. James said that the guy he had given her to was wearing a Shelbyville letter jacket and driving a black Cavalier.

That night I thought about how glad I was that she had not frozen to death or been eaten by anything. She was only outside for about 15 minutes! I was also thinking about why couldn’t he have called the Humane Shelter or asked around the neighborhood? He said himself that he "knew she had to be someone's pet because she came to him when he called while she was hiding under the car and she wasn't dirty." I just couldn’t believe that he would just give her to a stranger.

The next morning, Thursday, bright and early, I went in to Uncle Bills Pet shop and questioned everyone in there. No one had seen a ferret in their pet store for a really long time. (Again, my suspicions were getting the best of me since they had a whole slew of 'Marshall Ferrets New Pet Adoption Kits') I waited until that evening and went back in there to question the second shift employees. I did have a general description of one of the employees in there that had supposedly witnessed the giving of Mischief. One employee fit the description quite well, his name was John and I subjected him to a good 10 minutes of grilling until the manager of the store said that I had to leave and stop harassing his employees. I obliged, but put up fliers on the front door -- all over, inside and out.

My next step was to canvass all of the other possible places that she may have been seen. I had 200 fliers, complete with picture and entire story, made up and put them everywhere for the next 4 days. (People at my work were a little tired of me calling in, but sympathized with my plight.) I went to PetSmart, Pet Co., PetWarehouse, and at least 30 different Vet offices, at apartment complexes and grocery stores in Indianapolis and Greenwood. I did not receive any calls at all about Mischief, except from other ferret owners giving me their condolences and offering to help me look.

As most of my hope was dwindling, I decided that I needed to go to Shelbyville High school and canvass the student body. I enlisted one of my college friends, Michelle, that lives in Shelbyville (to help me find the High school first of all) and secondly, to help me look for guys in letter jackets.

This was now nine days after loosing Mischief, I was running out of hope that I would get her back, but I was not as sad as the moment that I thought she may be dead and I was definitely not giving up (even after being threatened with termination from my employer).

My friend Michelle, her baby Nicole and I staked out the Shelbyville High School parking lot for black Cavalier automobiles. All black cars got a flier on their window. As school let out, we made notes of guys coming out of school with letter jackets on. When a guy wearing a letter jacket got in to a black Cavilier, my heart skipped a beat. He had also intently looked at the flier that was stuck to the windshield before putting it down and driving off. Michelle hit the gas and the chase was on. I started snapping pictures and writing down the license plate number. We followed them to a house where all 3 passengers got out and went in. I wrote down the address and the last name on the mailbox.

As my thoughts drifted around in my head, as to what I was going to say in my letter to them, I was already back in Greenwood, and decided to check on my fliers and re-apply them as necessary. My second stop was in to a PetSmart. This time a lady was in the adoption department and led me to an employee that was familiar with ferrets. He took one look at my flier and said "Sorry, I don’t know anything about her."

By this time I was learning not to get my hopes up about anything (even though he called her female!). I quietly drove home after visiting a few more places to put up more fliers. Walking in my door, I saw the light on my answering machine flashing. I played the message half-heartedly. It was Paul, the employee from PetSmart that I had just spoken to. He left his cell phone number and said that he was pretty sure that he had my ferret. I just about fainted.

I promptly called him back on his cell phone and he said to meet him at Uncle Bills. (What a coincidence I thought.) He said that he drives a black Cavalier and does have a letter jacket from Shelbyville High school (these very particular things were stated on the flier, and was possibly his only motivation to turn himself in before he was found out by other people that knew him.) The woman at the adoption center was sure it was him too and was noticeably surprised that he said it wasn't him. She possibly was the person that persuaded him to turn himself in. (Thank-You wonderful lady!!)

As I jumped back in my truck (already equipped with a pet carrier containing Mischief's favorite food and treats), all I could do was hope. When I went in to Uncle Bill's Pet Shop, I saw Paul talking to John the Uncle Bills employee that was described to me by James my neighbor. I went up to John and stated, "HEY, YOU SAID YOU DIDN’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT MY FERRET!!!" He said, "I didn't until now." (Although I have a sneaking suspicion that he may have had a clue, due to the explicit description of Paul on my flier.) Paul and John were friends, calmly chatting as I walked in the door.

As I followed him to Shelbyville (probably the longest 45 minute road-trip in my entire life) to get Mischief back, I really really really hoped it was her. (I knew it most likely was) but after 9 days and many rides on roller-coasters of emotions, I tried to keep my head on straight. We stopped in front of a house and we went inside.

There she was. (Big Sigh of HAPPINESS). I think I didn’t breathe for a full hour. I picked her up and she kissed my nose and latched on to my sweater. She was definitely smiling. He was keeping her in a medium sized cage with 2 other ferrets. Upon looking around this guys bedroom, I saw at least 30 fish, about 18 cats, around 12 dogs, at least 15 birds, a few snakes, and 2 other ferrets (and barely room for him to sleep). I determined that he was an animal collector and had absolutely no intention of trying to find her owner, ME! The conditions that the animals were kept in were just shy of deplorable. He had so many animals there; it must have taken him many hours every night to take care of them.

Since I had offered a reward on my flier, he asked me about it. He said that he had taken her to a veterinarian and that it cost him about $55.00. I went to the bank machine and gave him $80.00 because I could only take out cash in multiples of 20. (At that point, I didn't care if it was $800.00.) I'm glad that I kept on looking for Mischief even after I thought I had exhausted all of my resources, and that Paul's conscious finally got the best of him. I was surprised at myself at what little information that I had and how it still lead to her recovery. I was also surprised about the lack of people’s sense of responsibility to find a pet’s owner. I only wish they could feel what I felt the moment I discovered her missing that cold, rainy day in February.

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