Coco Puff came to me in the summer of 1992, in full season.  I waited two
weeks and when no one claimed her I had her spayed.  After her spay, this
adorable blocky small sable female lost all of her overcoat and I was left
with a creamy downy female.  She was so soft.  She eventually grew back her
coat and if anyone has met Todd Cromwell's Dors, they could be identical
twins.  Coco was the energizer bunny of our group.  Over the years I'd
write of Coco's adventures, like the time she stole my Seiko watch and
of the fun she had with my Mother when she visited us in 1993, and more
recently how Coco walked up to other ferrets and screamed at them to go
away.  She'd outlived her favorite friends.  One and a half weeks ago
Coco quit screaming.  I knew we were in trouble then.  A week ago she lost
control of her hindend.  Tuesday evening she didn't want to eat much and
barely anything Wed morning.  Coco died Wednesday late morning/early
afternoon.  She had died upstairs in her bed.  I found her cold body in
a sleeping position that evening downstairs.  Someone had taken her down
there to be close to them.
 
This next part is very emotional so some may want to skip it -
 
Silver was battling liver failure.  A few months ago he'd had surgery to
remove a hairball, left adrenal, and insulinomas.  Though the surgery went
well, he didn't seem to bounce back so we ran extensive bloodwork.  No
question, he was in liver failure.  I tried several different treatment
therapies and we finally settled on 1/2 cc pediapred, 3 drops Milk Thistle,
and 1 cc Colloidal Silver, twice a day mixed with his lamb baby food
recipe.  It was up and down with Silver then a week ago he was down and
wouldn't come up.  I subq-d fluids hoping he'd feel better then he seemed
to bounce back till Thursday.  Friday evening he didn't want to eat much,
and less on Saturday morning though he tried for me and we managed 24 cc's
of food.  Saturday evening when I got home from work he was laying on the
bedroom floor in an odd position.  His eyes were wide and unseeing and he
was paralyzed completely from his chest down.  His whiskers kept twitching.
I wrapped him in a towel and we sat with me holding him close to my heart
and gently rocking him.  He relaxed a bit but kept opening his mouth as if
he was trying to breathe or say something.  There wasn't any raspy noises
coming from his throat or chest.  I gave him a painkiller and he relaxed a
bit more.  When Nancy arrived we took Silver to the vet down the highway
to help him cross.  He never flinched at the sedative injection or at the
lethal injection.  What he did next will forever stay with me.... as the
lethal fluid swept through his veins he lifted his head towards his front
leg and me for only seconds and then he was gone... He tried to fight it
even though he'd had a painkiller and sedative injection... he didn't want
to go.... sigh.  When things like this happen it always makes me doubt
my decision, mainly because I don't know what they feel in those last
moments and I would never do anything to intentionally cause them pain or
suffering.  I knew he wouldn't get better.  I know the liver failure was
progressing, treatments not working and that we couldn't cure it.  He
hadn't felt good for some time and the up and down rollercoaster was
draining on both of us.  When they hurt, I hurt.  I don't want them to
suffer yet I don't want to make that decision either.  This is the most
difficult part of what I do and each time it is agonizing.  I know I set
myself up for pain and sorrow with what I do but for the time they are
with us they are well loved and cared for and no matter how much pain it
causes me, I will always believe that they are worth every bit of it.
 
Hugs to all. tle
Troy Lynn Eckart
Ferret Family Services
http://www-personal.ksu.edu/~sprite/ffs.html
http://www.geocities.com/Petsburgh/Haven/5481/
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[Posted in FML issue 3320]