Dear All,

Our sweet little polar bear, Klondike, passed away on Mar. 2 around
4:30 pm. I never knew his actual age, but estimated that he was
probably at or near 7 yrs. old. Before we adopted him on June 28,
2009, he came from 3 different homes at least one of which was abusive
and one where he never got out of the cage. Despite his fear and
hyper-vigilance -- he would jolt awake if you came near him -- he never
bit or hissed; he was just being protective of himself and Minky. After
he got to know us he relaxed and became the sweetest ferret I've ever
had. Every night that I picked him up, put him near my face and said,
"I love you Klondike," he'd kiss me on the nose.

Sadly, he died of a broken heart in losing his life-long friend, Minky.
Though he had adrenal disease and inflammatory bowel disease, both
illnesses were controlled and he was doing very well until Minky died
at the end of Sept. 2011. He became very depressed, obviously at first,
but after a couple of months seemed a somewhat better--he played a bit
and we thought he was adjusting to his loss. But unknown to us until
later, he gradually ate less and less. His IBD symptoms got worse and
worse despite all the medications we tried and also developed very low
blood sugar (possibly insulinoma or just from not eating enough?). A
couple of weeks before he died, after having had pepto bismal,
immodium, carafate and maybe other things (I can't remember all right
now) forced on him for several weeks on vet advice, he stopped eating
his kibble and even his soup. When I swiched him to baby food, he began
eating well. I had hope that he might get better.

Then, a week before he died, he had a traumatic experience when the vet
came to our home to examine him and get a BG reading. The vet couldn't
get into a vein and kept poking around while we had to hold him down.
After that he stopped eating entirely and seemed afraid of us. I was
devastated that he no longer seemed to trust us, especially when he was
so ill. We gave him the best care we could: fluids, meds, trying to get
some food into him, cleaning him up when needed. A few days later he
developed stomach ulcers and we decided to give him a small amount of
valium, which relaxed him and removed his fear. We were also gave him
carafate and immodium and cut his pred dose down. The vet prescribed
buprenorphine for pain, which he should have done sooner.

A couple of days later he developed bleeding intestinal ulcers. A day
before he died, when I came home and saw all the blood, I really
freaked out and knew we had to let him go as soon as possible. It was
the Thursday before he died and we couldn't get any of our vets or a
local non-exotic vet, whom Steve had worked for, to come that day. On
Friday morning, Steve accidentally gave him twice the dose of valium.
We're not sure if that, combined with the buprenorphine, was what
helped him leave, but it was a blessing that he did, and that we didn't
have to wait for a vet. The two exotics vets I was using both used the
heart stick, and after my experience with my first ferret, Rocky, I
never wanted to do that again. In the end, he died of chronic diarrhea
and bleeding ulcers. But he left us loved, relaxed and free from pain
in our own home.

I am having a very difficult time dealing with his death. I blame
myself for asking for the BG reading, but a month before his BG was
42 and I wanted to know if the increased pred dose and/or baby food
were helping. Besides the BG reading, I was mainly concerned about his
prostate because one time I heard him make two small cries when he was
peeing. I wish I had never made that appointment. We were supposed to
try chloramphenicol but never could because he wasn't eating and was
very weak. I know he may not have lasted much longer, but it was a
terrible way for him to go for both him and us. Five months earlier, a
few days before Minky died, I wished I had called in a vet sooner than
I did. I blamed myself for her death also. It seems I always make the
wrong decision no matter how hard I try to do the best.

Klondike was our last ferret and I don't think I will be able to get
any ferrets in the future. As much as we both love this species so
much, there are so many problems--lack of vets I trust; enormous
expense that we can't afford; legal issues requiring hiding them in my
apartment building; and my emotional difficulties with their illnesses
and death. It took me more than 2 years to get over the death of Rocky.
I cried intermittently during those years, even after getting Klondike
& Minky. Now the death of Klondike has brought back more feelings of
grief for Minky. Our home seems so empty and sad without them. Just
seeing them walk through the room unexpectedly would cheer us up.
Watching them fanging in the tube made use laugh. And seeing the ever
changing and incredibly cute and funny ways they slept together in a
tote bag near the bed made us smile.

We miss them both so much, will always love them and be glad that we
gave them--and they gave us--about 2 1/2 years of happiness in their
difficult life.

Thank you to everyone who gave us their help and support from the
beginning, as they were already ill when we got them. I will never
forget your kindness. I will miss all of you, too, and hope that you
can get the best care for your beloved ferrets.

Love,
Shron
Rocky, Minky & Klondike angels

[Posted in FML 7364]