Warning--this will be sad.  You can skip it if you like.
 
I wrote in a while back about Amadeo and all the fluid in his lungs.  I'd
like to thank everyone who wrote with suggestions.  We fought very hard for
his life, and he actually turned around for a while--seemed to be doing all
right, getting better.  Then, a few days ago, he relapsed.  We took him in
and he had a mass in his abdomen that hadn't been there before.  We had
been hoping for pneumonia.  We got Lymphoma, systemic.
 
Saturday morning our vet counseled euthanasia, but I couldn't do it.  He
was looking at me.  He didn't want to die.  We arranged to bring him in
today, Monday; we wanted to give him two days for miracles to occur.  That
night I sat and force-fed him and got pills down his throat.  He refused to
open his mouth but I forced him to, and he actually bit me... my Deo, who's
never bitten anyone unless it was a lick-lick-chomp.  He really didn't want
me to make him swallow anything.  I burst into tears and cuddled him and
apologized.  And ten minutes later he died.
 
He was only a year old, almost exactly a year.  He was our beautiful
cinnamon boy, with the prettiest face ever on a ferret; if he heard us
coming, he'd sit up and pose for us.  He loved cameras... but I don't think
we have a single decent picture of him.  Amadeo was quite possibly my
favorite, if I could have a favorite.  He was mommy's ferret; he used to
run over to me and snuggle beside me to snooze.  He was a problem child as
a kit, of course, and daddy was convinced he'd never outgrow the grabby
stage, but he did.  I had a game I played with him, where I held him up to
my face and snapped my teeth at him.  He would snap his teeth back at me,
not touching me.  I would roll him over on the floor and bury my face in
his belly, pretending to hiss like a ferret.  He was always really a
people-ferret, despite living with a dozen other ferrets; he wanted to be
with us all the time.  He was great with the young ones and all the shelter
kids, actually, and never picked a fight with anyone.  He was a pretty big
boy, and when we got a dominant or aggressive ferret in that would come
after him, Deo never seemed to figure out that they were being mean; he'd
just play back.  Two or three days later they'd be sleeping together.
 
I'm going to miss him very much.  Writing this to the FML is part of my way
of saying goodbye.  He was my baby, my golden boy.  I still can't believe
he's gone.
 
Jen and the Crazy Business
[Posted in FML issue 2996]