There were eight little black fuzz balls tumbling around in the large cage at
the pet store.  I asked to see the ferrets and sat on the floor and played
with all the babies.  You caught my attention because you did not nip me.
When I held you against my face. you licked me and went "eep, eep, eep"
"What a sweet boy" I said.  Another little black fur ball climbed inside  my
dress and promptly dozed off. Ah, all those years ago, but not that long.
You were a MF ferret and so was your sister.  I left the store with the two
of you that day - dubbed Dusk and Dawn before we arrived home because of your
dark color.  You joined a much smaller number at home then we have now, and
my dear Frisky had her hands full with two energetic babies.
 
As you grew, you turned into a pretty chocolate sable and Dawn stayed black.
A very good likeness of you is a picture on the last page of Dr. Sally
Winstead's book on ferrets.
 
You  were the smallest hob I have ever had.  But what a coat you grew, my
Dusk.  Each year you turned into such a puff ball that it was always a
surprise to find such a small ferret inside all that fur.
 
And so gentle - still the only ferret I have ever loved who did not nip me at
some time or other.  You liked to hang your head up-side down over my arm and
so we developed a little act that played well at local schools for children
and such.
 
You allowed me to hold you up-side down and swing you back and forth, right
side up and swing you gently from that position too.  You learned to "play
dead" stretched out along my forearm with my hand supporting the back of your
neck -- you would go limp with you head up-side down and feet relaxed.
People always marveled at this one. With my hand supporting you under your
back legs, you let me hold you high in the air and then lower you to my
up-turned face for a mouth kiss.  What a sweet boy.
 
Knowing better than to wake me in the morning, you waited patiently with your
face near mine.  O.K. so sometimes you were not so patient and would check my
face carefully to see if I was awake (I am very good at feigning sleep).
Your muzzle and whiskers would tickle my face.  Your nose in my ear was hard
to hold still for.  But those licks across my eyes - or the "Dread Nostril
Licking" always got a reaction from me.  "Dook, dook" you would say, happy to
see me awake so you could get your morning treat.  What a sweet boy.
 
And what a little stud you fancied yourself.  Always after the girls, happily
talking to them and trying to drag them around.  Even Nelly, when she came
along.  It didn't matter that most of the girls were bigger than you - just
more challenge in your flirting game.  And Dawn, of course, your faithful
companion.
 
All of the ferrets who came to live with us after you, always loved you too.
So did Sparky - a whole hob - who was quite a trial to you when he came into
season.  But you forgave him, if fact, you and Dawn, Shadow, Pepper and
Sparky usually slept together.  There was hardly room in the bed for me.
 
When you contracted the dread "greenies" two years ago, you were so sick that
the vet did not think you would make it.  But you did.  When you went into
secondary complications, your vet again thought you would not make it, but
you did.  I think you still hold the record for "worst organ profile" in a
ferret that survived.  You helped  develop a nursing technique that we used
for other ferrets that helped save them too.  This was when we started going
round the clock on supportive care - and the death rate dropped dramatically.
You helped us learn that critically  ill ferrets could survive to dance
another day.
 
Last winter when you went out of coat, you did not come back in, and after a
long weekend away, I returned to find you in bad shape. You had gone
"adrenal" and so surgery was scheduled and then postponed twice while I tried
to build you up.  You did not respond and so, with some trepidation, the vet
removed your left adrenal.  I was told there was a good chance you would not
survive the surgery, but you did.  You also survived a bad post-op bleed.  I
stayed up with you for over 72 hours to try and save you.  You wanted to live
and you did.
 
Soon you were back to your endless tasks of retrieving squeaky toys from all
the thieves that took them from your hiding places.  You were always the
first one on the scene when I collected squeaky toys and squeaked to bring
everyone running to get them from me.  You danced again and your fur started
coming back.  You returned to one of your favorite sleeping places - on the
pillow at the top of my head with your paws wrapped in my hair. What a sweet
boy.
 
We got seven good months after the surgery, but one day last week I came home
from work to find you lying staight out on the floor.  I ran to you expecting
to find you in an insulinoma - but you were warm.  You  were so weak you had
trouble gaining your feet.  You turned your head from food and treats.  You
did not respond to the squeaky toys.  You did take "duck soup" all I gave
you, from a infant medicine dropper, and would lick some nutrical too.  I
found a small egg shaped mass on the right side of your abdomen.  I stayed up
most of the night deciding what to do.  You told me.  You were tired and it
was time.  You had lost interest in everything.  How quickly this happened.
I decided to support you, with no more heroics.
Dawn and Shadow stayed very close to you and Shadow licked you clean when I
was not close enough to help you to the potty area.
I slept with you close to me.
Day before yesterday, you refused the duck soup.  Yesterday morning I awoke
to find you nearly gone from me and I held you. I held you for a long time
after you slipped away, because I could still feel you near.  Finally, I
wrapped you in my best silk nightgown - your very favorite sleeping one - the
one you always pulled from the drawer to cuddle in.  You were laid to rest
next to Frisky and Whisky.
 
We have been so lucky.  Only three ferrets have left us in ll years -- but I
know time grows short for some of our other very oldtimers.
When you accept a ferret into your life and heart,  and then lose that loved
one -  I feel that all the joy you bring is worth the grief you must in time
suffer.  But it is still so hard.
 
I will never hold you again in my arms, dear Dusk, but I will carry you
forever in my heart.  Go with God my little friend, and wait for me there.  I
love you.  What a sweet boy.        Meg
[Posted in FML issue 1260]