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Subject:
From:
Charles Onken <[log in to unmask]>
Date:
Wed, 30 Aug 2000 18:44:19 -0400
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Bandit was found wandering the streets in St Cloud, Florida, in 1992 by the
Humane Society.  I had asked them to call me if they ever had a ferret come
in.  In the time between that request and when he was found, we had gotten
another ferret, Cujo.  But, we went to the pound "Just to look."  One week
later, after the wait to see if he would be claimed, Bandit came home
with us.
 
Bandit started losing hair in January of 1998.  In February, he was put on
Lysodren and Prednisone, but the hair loss continued.  April 20 of 1998, he
was operated on by Dr Shaffer.  Bandit's left adrenal was removed.  It was
3/4 inches long.  Normal size is that of a pea.
 
Bandit was on Lysodren, Prednisone and Proscar.  He was doing fine, but
slowing a bit the last couple of years.  In early July, he was very tired
and lethargic.  We fed him a cup of Bob's chicken gravy, but we had to
force him to eat.  We put him in a cage by himself, but took him out often,
wrapped in a towel, and held him.  He was just able to get to the litter
box by himself.  I struggled with the decision to have him helped to The
Bridge on that July Saturday, but he seemed not to be in pain, so I decided
to give him more precious time.  Sunday morning, we fed him with an eye
dropper again.  He seemed to WANT food, so we held the cup of chicken gravy
up to him, and he ATE ON HIS OWN.  These little guys can FIGHT!!!  He even
licked some Ferretvite from my finger.  Put him back in the "hospital
cage", and I noticed him drinking from the water bottle a few minutes
later.  He is alert, but VERY tired.  I am SO GLAD that I did not have
him put down then.
 
Last weekend, Bandit started not eating again.  We force fed him, but he
really did not want it.  I knew that this time, it was time.  Yesterday,
August 30, he refused to even be force fed.  He whimper every few minutes
when he breathed.  We took Bandit to be helped to the Bridge at 4:45 in the
afternoon.  I held him as he went.  I could not let him go alone.  He was
wrapped in the ferret shirt with his name on it that my daughter gave me.
He was placed on his favorite hammock (than you, Millie Sanders), with some
of the Dog Bones that he loved to steal and munch on behind my chair, and
laid to rest outside our bedroom window, next to Cujo.
 
He was the gentlest soul ever to be wrapped in flesh and blood and fur.
Bandit would tussle with his cagemates, but nothing in the world would
cause him to touch a human being with his teeth.  When I picked him up,
he would lay in the crook of my arm totally relaxed, as if he that was
exactly where he belonged.  And he was right.
 
He was a dark sable with the most beautiful jet black fur on his legs and
feet.  In his later years, most of his fur lost some of its youthful glory,
but you could see the blackness of space in the fur on his legs.
 
He would run, and sometimes dance a little, but mostly he just patrolled
his chosen beat in the house.  He absolutely loved to steal Milk Bone dog
treats and hide someplace and munch on them.  We never let him have more
than one a day.  He also loved his morning raisin.
 
Look in his eyes and you saw a calmness I wish were mine.  And, I always
thought, a look of something he had lost.  He loved to be taken outside.
He would lay on the sill of an open window, and look out through the
screen.  He would sit in front of the door, and then look at me, and I
would pick him up and carry him around outside.  He would instantly change.
From calmness to every sense on alert.  He would sniff the tree leaves and
flowers.  When there were oranges on the trees, he couldn't resist biting
one, even though he knew what the taste would be.  He would let go
immediately and shake his head.  Guess he always thought he would find a
sweet one.
 
I think he was remembering the time he was "on the streets" and missed the
pure freedom.  Freedom he has now.  An entire universe to gaze on and walk
through.  No screens or walls.  He and Cujo are together at The Bridge.
 
He was an MF ferret, with the double tattoos.  He never weighed over 2 lbs
12 oz, most of the time a little less.  I loved him.  I will always miss
him.  He will always be in my head and in my heart, but God how I wish he
were in the crook of my arm.
 
Charlie, Aggie, Donna, Snowball, Valentine
Missing Cujo and Bandit
[Posted in FML issue 3160]

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