What nonsense.
From Wikipedia: "They are small, active predators, long and slender..."
If I didn't already know that a mustelid was being described, I would assume that the author of that sentence was talking about the ideal woman.
LITHE-MINDED INDIVIDUALS
It will probably not surprise you to discover that I have always liked weasels. Much like I am fond of badgers, raccoons, and many other animals.
It's refreshing to see goal-driven intelligences at work, and the more a creature can upset the applecart or get away with murder, the more I tend to admire it.
That raccoon-proof garbage can is not really raccoon-proof, you know. And you've likely given him a challenge he cannot resist. If he had his druthers, he would prefer to dine at that little French bistro on Hyde Street, wearing a coat and tie, and generously tipping the waitstaff, especially after the roast duck and foie gras.....
But he seriously wants to see the expression on your face when you discover that the raccoon lock is busted, the coffee grounds have been thrown at your window, the banana peels festively festoon your brand-new Prius, and the chicken carcass which you should have used for soup stock is now in your letter box.
And your teenage daughter has run off with Mr. Raccoon.
He's clearly a very intelligent and witty fellow.
With a wickedness that's magnetic!
Just because they're furry doesn't mean they can't outfox you.
Even weasels. Especially weasels. Mr. Weasel wants your chickens, you are powerless to resist. Attempts to eradicate his kind as pests have merely resulted in the more intelligent ones contributing much more to the mustelian gene pool. At this point, they're qualified to run for congress.
In another few generations they'll be running the banks.
And collecting European art.
Surrender now.
"Small active predators, long and slender"
I cannot help but wonder what a dinner date with a young female weasel would be like. Probably very exciting, from a food and company point of view. For one thing, she'd be keenly interested in meat. And seafood.
And tasty crustaceans.
For another, she would probably insist that we leave a very generous tip if the service was good, and burn the blasted place down if it wasn't.
Miss, why are you carrying a jerry-can instead of a Vuitton handbag?
Oh I see - it's the culturally accepted equivalent for your kind.
Weasels are small enough that they can sit ON the table. Instead of at it. Maybe she'd want the food to-go. Fois gras, roast duck, and fresh fresh chicken for a picnic. Crusty loaf, bottle of wine, tablecloth, and cutlery.
Indeed, a veritable feast!
Followed by cigarillos, and chucking garbage at the tourists.
Or raiding the fish-markets to liberate the lobster!
And reunite it with an old friend: mayonnaise!
I'll get you home by nine, sweetheart, 'cause I'm scared of your dad. He's still carrying a grudge from the Toad Hall incident. And he's a meanie.
As well as being my tax-accountant.
Somebody needs to write a story about nice weasels, showing them as the gallant, independent-minded, creative individuals that they are. Lovable and ferocious, and precisely the kind of people you want your children to know.
Well, except for the part where they stole the cutlery.
Might want to avoid mentioning that.
That was 'regrettable'.
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