#forest socks

I’ve come to realize that the most important beings in my life came to me as complete surprises.  . . My now husband asked me to a dance in high school. We were halfway through the night when I realized I’d been nervous because I liked him. I wasn’t expecting it. Not one bit. Eleven years later and sometimes it still surprises and overwhelms me how much I love him.  . . Quigley was no different. It might shock you, considering the fact that I am now undeniably a crazy ferret lady, but it was my husband who wanted a ferret. I wasn’t so sure. But the same day we got the go-ahead from our landlord, I found Quigley in a classified ad. Not even an hour later he was on his way home with us. I remember telling him once, because he was two when we got him and he’d had two homes before us, that he would never have to find a new family again. He was ours forever. He was mine.  . . He helped people understand ferrets. That they are not rodents. They’re carnivores and they were domesticated to help hunters flush prey from their burrows, so their paws are made like shovels and their sense of smell is incredible. That they do have a scent, but they don’t stink. That ferrets need to be stimulated and challenged because they’re smart and brave and fearless. That they’re kind and silly and ridiculous and curious. That their hearts are so, so big for such small creatures.  . . My husband, Quigley, even Diggle; I wasn’t expecting any of them, but they stole my heart. I’ve missed Quigley every day since he’s been gone. I will never forget a moment of those few years where he was mine. My little love: the very best kind of surprise.