Without Codo, the ferret room of Ferrets at Heart is missing something
infinitely precious, or, in this case, a "someone" precious. Codo has
been an inspiration to so many people, and he touched the lives of
other ferrets as well, proving ferrets to be a compassionate species.
Now, Codo rests between Frost and his Ayla out behind the ferret room;
these, his fierce protectors in life, will surely guard his sleep with
diligence.

In April of 2009, two tattooed and pierced biker types in their late
teens came to my home and thrust a pair of ferrets into my arms, before
driving off with little explanation. The pair were named Ayla and Codo,
and they were between 4 and 4.5-years-old. They had been together all
their life. They ate Purina Cat Chow. That was the sum of what I
learned about my charges, prior to the anxious owners' hasty departure.

When I examined the male of the ferret duo, it was immediately
apparent that something was very wrong. Codo was alert and seemed
sweet-tempered, but he wasn't moving much. Three of his legs did not
function. Two places on his spine had fused vertebrae, approximately
the width of a man's foot apart, leading me to make an educated guess
as to how the legs became motionless. Codo also exhibited a large knot
on the back of his skull and numerous breaks in his tail. Ayla was in
better shape, but her enlarged spleen was a concern.

We had our ferret vet examine Codo first-thing the next day. We ruled
out performing an MRI, since, whatever damaged had been done, it
couldn't be surgically undone. The questions to be answered were "Was
Codo in Pain?" and "Was his paralysis permanent?" Our vet determined
that Codo did not have any sensation in the unmoving limbs, but also
showed no sign of pain from his injuries. The damage to his spine,
skull, and tail had to be some time passed, since they were healed as
best his body could manage. We were cautioned that physical therapy
couldn't hurt Codo at this point, and it just might attain some
results.

Ayla's relationship with Codo was unique in my experience, but I have
since heard similar tales of compassionate ferrets. She would push her
Codo to food and water, even if that meant sliding his heavier frame up
a ramp to a higher level in a cage. She got under him to heave him up
into hammocks. She maneuvered him into the litter area to use the
restroom. If you gave Ayla a treat before you gave Codo a treat, Ayla
would immediately take her treat to Codo. Initially, Ayla guarded him
from the other ferrets, fiercely protective of her crippled companion.
But, Ayla soon learned that other ferrets seemed to naturally respect
Codo's limitations and treated him with gentle care. Ayla even granted
us humans some level of acceptance, eventually determining that we were
not made of the same cloth as those other humans of whom she had been
acquainted.

Over the next few months, I attempted a physical therapy regiment with
Codo. At first, it was my muscles alone that repeatedly moved his legs,
bending them one at a time, over and over, two to three sessions each
day. At that point in time, left to his own devices, Codo's one working
leg left him scooting in a circle. Soon, the PT showed progress. Codo
began to grip my finger with his toes. I used that grip as a "handle"
to move his legs. He started crawling on his belly with all of his
limbs participating in the action. He began to stand for a second here
and there, before falling over. Oh, the look on his face when he would
fall! He just didn't understand. At the end of a few months, Codo
slowly walked, stiff-legged, frequently tumbling onto his side, but he
did walk! Codo took obvious pride in his achievement. We call that
"walk" the "Codo Shuffle."

Six months after Codo arrived, he showed signs of an adrenal tumor.
After nearly two years of treatment with deslorelin and melatonin, it
is this tumor that has finally overcome our valiant hero. The tumor on
his left adrenal gland has also engulfed Codo's left kidney and touches
his spine. When the area is gently touched, or Codo falls on his left
side, he flinches in pain. Codo's urine is darkened with blood and
streams out with unusual force, leading to the conclusions that the
tumor may be encountering his bladder or prostate. His eyes, nose, and
skin hold a jaundice tint beyond what an adrenal tumor normally causes.
Codo's spirits have seemed as cheerful as ever, but I can't allow him
to continue to be in pain; Codo will collapse on his left side often
throughout the day. It is the job of a ferret parent and shelter
operator to know when it is "time."

Ayla left us July 5, 2011. Codo went to join her on September 19, 2011.
With one hand olding his head and the fingers of the other over his
heart, I felt him draw his final breath and his heart beat for the last
time. He would have gladly fought longer, but some fights cannot be
won. Now, he rests in the paws of the little ferret who loved him even
more than I.

With respect,
Lori of Ferrets at Heart
Huron, Ohio
(419)433-6016

[log in to unmask]
http://ferretsatheart.com/
 
 and Rhys, Mandie, Winter,
Holly, Charlie, & Templeton

Please continue to support us through our Adrenal Disaster Raffle,
ending October 1, 2011.

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[Posted in FML 7189]