Daisy, an Sable Sprite,  was O.K. for six months (she was approx. 2 when we
got her) until she started loosing weight and fur. She was intermittantly
violent (not at us, but she often violently shook the cage door when "locked
up" and broke a tooth doing so) and lethargic. She was diagnosed with
Insulinoma (sp?) and Pancrease Cancer.
 
The cancer tumor was finally remove and she improved somewhat, but the
Insulinoma was her final end. The vet also was sure (though she was never
autopsied) she has a brain tumor because of her violent behavior. The poor
thing was practically skin and bones most of her 2 years with us.
 
The vet was suprised she hung in so long, as her blood sugar was mostly next
to nothing whenver we checked. We spent months feeding her Nutrical (which is
about all she would eat) to get her ready for surgury. But, she never kept
wait on and was put to sleep when we felt that she had lost all semblance of
a quality life. She hung on and played as much as she could. She had a
hard-time walking and was very weak, but when she stopped even trying to
play, and started to look sad and ill (you can appreciate how this "looks" on
a ferret), we made the tough choice of putting her to sleep. She was a
fighter, and she has an honored space on my parent's mantle (cremated by the
Atlantis Society).
 
Right now, beleive it or not, I am next to tears relating this. I remember
the poor dear struggling to have a normal life. The other three we had
(Sarah, Fred and Melony), all seemed to know she was sick, and never played
too rough with her. They probably knew because she smelt bad most times (not
the normal musk). When she did get pciked on by the younger Fred, who was a
kit, she would get the best of him. When she couldn't fight back, Melony, our
"head ferret" would give Fred hell. I really think she had some quality, even
as sick and skinny as she was for that year, but when a ferret stops even
trying, and we had little treatment options (damn &$#%&#$%&#$ Calif. Fish &
Game!!!!!), I think what we did was best. It was very hard, especially hard
for my Mom, who spent alot of time hand-feeding and "pilling" Daisy, trying
desparately to get her well.
 
[Posted in FML issue 0734]