For the second time in three days, I have the horrible task of announcing
the death of one of our beloved babies.
 
Sturm died today on the operating table during his second Insulinoma
surgery.  Everything had been going smoothly, the tumor had been removed,
and they were taking a last look around when Sturm simply stopped
breathing.  He had no distress, showed no signs of trouble on the monitor.
He simply left.  I choose to believe that he wanted to be with his sister
and littermate, Tassie, who we lost on Sunday.
 
Sturm was named for a noble knight from the Dragonlance tales.  I figured
he earned it when, at the pet store, as a kit, he took a flying leap from
my shoulder and landed with this huge thwacking *thud* onto the floor.  I
though I'd killed him for sure.  Then he just simply shook it off and gave
me kisses.
 
Sturm was a big, beautiful ferret.  He always had thick, dark fur that was
so soft.  He had that big male ferret head, and big feet.  He was a gentle
boy.  When ever I encountered someone who didn't like ferrets because they
were "mean" and they "bit", I would introduce them to Sturmie.  His heavy
warmth and pension for trying to lick the eyebrows off your face always
worked.
 
Sturm was gentle with everyone.  Our fuzzy girls loved sleeping on him,
and the boys loved playing with him.  Seeing him war dance on the bed was
one of the funniest things ever.  When ever I would lean the mattress
against the wall to sweep under the bed, Sturmie would climb it and peer
down at me.
 
He loved squeaky toys, digging in dirt, digging in packing peanuts.  He
loved melted cheese (from Big Macs and Chili Cheese Burritos), he loved
sour cream and LOVED chicken gravy.
 
Sturmie was barely 2 years old when he and I shared a raging bout of flu
that triggered Insulinoma in him long before it normally would have.  In
December he was put on Prednisone that became ineffective this month.
Our doctor saw no problems with the second surgery because Sturmie was so
healthy otherwise.  We were thrilled.
 
Phil and I are devistated.  He wasn't supposed to go.  He was supposed to
come home and be better, and help us heal from Tassie.  But, in his gentle
mind, I think he wanted to be with his sister, and with our beloved Bailey.
We still have one more sick ferret who is at the vet today also, our first,
our little Boo Boo.  I only pray that she is okay.
 
So as Phil and I try and recover from this, I ask again that you kiss your
babies, and kiss your partners.  I can't do either, and it's a horrible,
horrible thing to get that phone call.
 
Julie - [log in to unmask]   Phil - [log in to unmask]
[Posted in FML issue 3447]