Nippy Little Sods

I strolled towards the entrance of Victoria Park and saw walking towards me a tall, gangly man in his mid-thirties, sporting a straggly beard and a filthy blue rucksack on his back. He wore very dirty clothes. He was walking a ferret on a thin, blue leather leash connected to a harness that wrapped around its little front legs and chest. As ferrets go, this one was quite beautiful. It had a chirpy, happy face and long, silky, chocolate brown fur that finished in rich black at the tip of each frond. It was very clean - which could not be said of his owner, who now spoke,
  "I see you like my ferret, mate?"
I said that I did, and I stopped to allow the creature to wriggle over my feet as it acknowledged and negotiated my presence. And now the man's mother wheeled up beside him in an electric wheelchair. She was morbidly obese. Her clothes were as dirty as her son's. I was suddenly aware of a horrible smell which proudly announced the pair's determinedly unwashed status. The ferret continued playing over my feet, now and again rearing up on its back legs and gripping my trouser leg with its adorable little front paws and gazing up at my face, expectantly.
  "I think he likes you", offered the man.
  "Yes, he does like you", said his mother, "He won't usually go up to people like that. He can tell you are a nice bloke. They can be nippy little sods, so watch your fingers near his mouth". As I had absolutely no intention of placing my fingers anywhere near the little sod's mouth this was a moot point. The man now said,
  "I got two more in here." He made a shallow bow in order to reveal to me the inside of his filthy rucksack, which had wedged into it a plastic cat-removal box with a wire mesh trap-door. I couldn't see the contents of the box, so I took his word for it. I didn't ask him why he was taking the menagerie for a walk around Victoria Park. In fact, I was trying very hard not to open my mouth because of the unholy stench that was galloping of the pair of them.
The man nodded at the animal still squirreling around my trainers, "That one's Joey. And these two in here are Jack and Jill."
  "Jack and Jill", added his mother. "They are lovely pets to have", she continued, "But they bother some people because they can get a bit smelly. But it doesn't bother us a bit, does it John?"
So, all things considered, I thought the pair had chosen their pets very wisely.

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