We love ferrets. Over the years we have opened our home to five furry friends — and, to date, four have met untimely ends. There was no abuse, no neglect, no ill-treatment. We just loved them to death.

Elvis was the first ferret to join our family. His original owner could no longer care for the King, and, though we knew nothing about them, we agreed to adopt. For the first week, we were fascinated by this uniquely limber creature whose hips swiveled profoundly as he scooted across the floor. Somewhat shy, Elvis constantly took cover under chairs, couches, in closets and under beds. Most of our time was spent looking for him, not playing with him. When we couldn't locate him, we just waited patiently for him to emerge from hiding. One day he did not appear. We guessed he slipped out the front door one of the many times the kids left it open. I explained to my children that Elvis probably ran off to join a wild ferret colony in the woods where he would start a family and live happily ever after.

It could happen.

Our next ferret was Elvis the Second. He too had swiveling hips, and like his predecessor, we wanted him to have regular outings from his cage — and like his predecessor, he made a break for real freedom. He slipped out the second-floor window, down the rain spout and out into the big world. We know this to be the case because my son had thwarted just such an attempt that same evening Elvis went AWOL, but after bringing him in from the roof, my son neglected to close the window. Elvis took advantage of that carelessness.

When we were eventually ready to try again, we decided that to avoid another escape, we would give the new ferret some real outside time — supervised, of course. Ferret No. 3 was regularly allowed to explore the yard under the watchful eye of my children. He loved wandering around the bushes in our yard, sliding through the grass and eating dead June bugs. We thought such outings would make Ferret content, but it was not to be. He clawed a whole in the dryer-vent tubing and made his great escape — all the way down the block to the neighbor's pool where his freedom ended in a watery grave.

Clearly if you give a ferret an inch he will take a mile, or at least a block. Ferret No. 4 would not get the chance to run into disaster. We would find other ways to show our affection. Instead of outings, we showered the next little guy with toys and snacks — his favorite treat being raisins. He ate them like candy, and we felt satisfied that we were providing him with the very best life had to offer. All was well, until the day ferret fell ill. We open the door of his cage to let him out for his raisin snack to find that the lower half of his body was paralyzed. All he could do was drag himself by his two front paws. Of course, we rushed him to the vet where he passed to that great ferret home in the sky. It turns out raisins are not good for ferrets.

Thankfully, Chloe, our newest beloved ferret, is blissfully unaware of the fate of her predecessors. Sadly, she shows all the signs of repeating their mistakes. She loves the outside. She loves raisins. And she disappears for hours at a time. She may be the same, but we are much wiser. We have fixed the dryer vent. She only gets one raisin a week. We taught her to swim in the bathtub — just in case. And she has her very own little-bitty, teeny-tiny ferret harness and leash. Freedom is something we want her to enjoy, but not at the expense of her safety. She may not understand all the limitations, but we love her too much not to put limits on her freedom.

I can't help but think that is a lesson God wants me to learn, as well. As my loving Father, He provides so many good things for me. One is loving limits, though not to pen me in; His limits are to keep me under the umbrella of His blessings.

The Lord declares to those He loves, "I led them with cords of human kindness, with ties of love; I lifted the yoke from their neck and bent down to (care) for them." Hosea 11:4

When our own desire for freedom threatens to take us far from God and His loving care, we may find that he will lovingly tug us back with His gentle cords of love.