On January 9, 1996 at approximately 4:25 pm, Sobriety crossed the great
Rainbow Bridge.
 
As many of you may know, I rescued Sobriety from Blue Mountain Ferret Rescue
on May 27, 1995.  He was the former pet of an alcoholic who had tried to go
sober but failed.  Sobriety ended up in the shelter and was never reclaimed.
He had been been given alcohol by his previous owner.
 
He was with me only seven months and was sick for about five of those
months.  He had liver troubles, adrenal troubles, and was losing hair so
bad.  The vets and I tried everything we could do for him.  He was on
medication and was being handfed twice a day for four months.  He would get
better then worse, then bounce back then get bad again.  Finally, it got to
the point where he just couldn't bounce back anymore.
 
I just got back from a week vacation and he looked even worse than he did
when I left.  I couldn't believe how much hair he lost in just a week.  His
little head just hung low with his eyes half shut. That mischeivous glow
that he used to have in those precious eyes was gone and he now looked so
tired and worn.  His poor little body was just giving up on him.  I
recognized the look in his eyes and knew what I had to do.
 
I took him to the vet to see if there was anything else I could possibly do
for him.  The vet took one look at him and seemed very grim.  He examined
him and found that his lymphnodes were now very enlarged --a sign of
lymphosarcoma cancer, he said.  (It could have been progressive hepatitis or
lymphosarcoma or both)  I cried and cried as he told me that Sobriety would
probably be in a lot of pain in the coming weeks and that he probably would
never recover.  He just couldn't bounce back anymore.
 
I decided then and there that the greatest gift I could give him at this
time was peace.  After all, he had loved me unconditionally and it was the
final thing I could do to show him just how much I loved him.  I held him as
the vet gave him his shot.  Then I picked him up and cuddled him close
against my chest.  I stroked his hair and told him how much I loved him,
that he was a good boy, how much I would miss him, and how very sorry I was
to be doing this to him.  He just looked up at me with big eyes as if to say
thank you, he heaved one last breath, and then passed very quickly and
peacefully to Rainbow Bridge.
 
I know that I did the right thing for him but it still hurts so bad. I
haven't stopped crying yet.  I am happy that he is finally at peace and not
hurting but I am sad for myself because I will miss him so very much.  He
was unlike any ferret I've ever known.  I know that I will never find
another ferret as cuddly as he was.
 
I am planning on putting together a memory book with all the pictures I have
of him along with writings of his favorite foods, sleeping places, toys, and
all his neat quirks  (such as rolling over to have his belly scratched).  It
will be a while though before I have the strenghth to do this.
 
I am not sorry that I rescued Sobriety.  He gave me so much love and joy in
the short time that I had him.  I know that had I not taken him from the
shelter, he may not have lived as long or received as individualized
attention and treatment as I could give him.  I will love him and remember
him forever and ever and ever....
 
I also wanted to say thank you to all of you who expressed concern for his
well being.  Thank you to Dr. Williams who gave me some advice at the
beginning of his illness.  I know that I appreciated everything and I'm sure
Sobriety did too.
 
Always remember:  NEVER GIVE ANY ANIMAL AN ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGE!
 
Ode To Sobriety:
There once was a ferret from PA
Who just loved to dance and play
He lost lots of hair
And went as bare as he dared
But he was the love of my life anyway.
 
Goodbye my friend.  I will always love you.
 
Julie and the Fuzz Factory --Misty and Charity (in memory of Sobriety)
[Posted in FML issue 1440]