Yesterday Fang had his usual yummy breakfast and consumed it with vigor.
By noon, his little body started to tell me what I have been dreading for
months: Increased lethargy; collapsing after trying to move.  He tried so
hard to go do his poopies in the right place, but he just couldn't make it.
What he did produce, confirmed that he was shutting down inside.  As the
day progressed into night,the main thing we noticed was increased labored
breathing, and occasional high pitched sneezing that briefly racked his
little body.  But he never cried, and slept most of the day.  He accepted
cuddling for short periods, but then seemed to want to be left alone.  Troy
Lynn had told me that this is when their time is near, and we have tried to
prepare for his leaving us.  We knew he wouldn't make it through the night,
and both of us got up at least five different times to check on him.  We
had a pain injection ready in case he started to cry, but he never did.
Our hope, as all of you feel at times like this, was that he would gently
go to sleep before his journey too the Bridge.  Every time I checked him,
I dreaded that he would be gone, but at the same time wanting him to go
peacefully.  (I had already told him about the Bridge many times this
past month, but he kept telling me he wasn't ready to go).  We took turns
holding him and telling him how much we loved him, and that we would love
him for eternity.  Yesterday I called a local vet who does cremation and
has a great reputation for returning only the beloved pet's ashes.  I tried
to be strong, and in the night I prayed over and over that I would be so in
the morning, but mostly I prayed for him not to feel pain.
 
At 5:00 A.M. I brought him into bed with us because as much as he wanted
to be left alone, I needed him close to my heart.  He nestled there with
his little cold nose against my chest, and I treasured every little breath
against my skin.  He still never cried, but his breathing was heavy, and my
heart ached for him.  There was only four hours left until the vet opened
at nine, and I could help him go to the Bridge.  My last gift for this
little body with the biggest heart and greatest love that has ever come
into our house with four little feet.
 
I have been pacing, filled with dread for my trip in one hour.  I keep
feeling him, and caressing his little head...he still is not crying.  We
gave him the pain injection at the crack of dawn, just to make him feel
better until the time comes for his mercy shot.  I think he made it
through the night so he could say goodbye to us all this morning.
 
I am writing now, because I won't be able to write later..I don't want to
be alone today, and I am so grateful my son is out of school , just to have
someone near.  My husband couldn't get off work today, as they are moving
three hundred head of cattle, and are short handed.  He left with tears
rolling down his cheeks.  He is not as verbal as I am, but his pain is
just as deep.  As one of you once wrote in the passing of your own little
one,:"who will be Daddy's shadow in the morning?"; the words stuck in my
heart and are so true.  My eyes hurt.  My heart hurts.  I am so afraid of
today, and the days to come.  He is the only ferret we have ever had; an
only furchild who has no one at the Bridge that he knows.  Sonya, I have
told him that Renny will be there for him, and Tara's four babies.  Please
say a prayer for little Fang that he might find friends to love him at the
Bridge.  Fang and I send our love to all of you.  The tears are coming
again, and there is nothing more to say now.
 
Thank you to all of you for helping us through last year.
 
lizzi and little Fang
[Posted in FML issue 3299]