Ferrets are pretty cool, if you like them. I think they are very entertaining. My cousin has a ferret named Farrah, after Farrah Fawcett.
In fourth and fifth grade, our classroom had a ferret. I don't remember the ferret's name, I just remember that it was a source of entertainment for the class. It was also a source of trauma for me.
Starting in fourth grade I had a nemesis. I may have been a little young for a nemesis, but I had one, just the same. Her name was Thea. I was very skinny growing up and after somehow offending Thea one afternoon, she called me the worst thing she could think of... "You, you... you Ethiopian Fatso!!!". Crushing, let me tell you. I was actually able to laugh that one off because it was kind of ridiculous.
The following year, however, things got much worse. For whatever reason, Thea took our ongoing feud to new and glorious heights. She decided to start sabotaging my sack lunches. I don't remember ALL of the atrocities I would discover in my mashed-bean-and-pickle sandwiches, but there were rubber-cement boogers, shreds of paper, and paper clips. The ultimate horror was the day I discovered the ferret turds. From then on, I had to give the teacher my lunch and have it locked in her desk drawer until lunchtime.
Eventually the war solved itself, probably because we combined efforts against a much more formidable foe - Lisa. By eighth grade, Thea and I were friends and busy defending ourselves from the "You stole my gap v-neck sweater!" assaults after P.E. class.