Try as I might I have not been abe to find a way to make this one easier..
and if one single fuzzy has suffered due to my not posting this sooner I
will find sleep a thing of the past for a very long time...
 
Many have posted messages about the hilarious fun their fuzzys have with the
thin plastic bags from supermarkets and thought the pricy cat Krinkly Sack
much overrated..  as well as hard to clean and not disposable... and I could
easily see their points as I have found a huge percentage of fuzzy parents
have had the fun of seeing their fur kids have a super time playing in and
around these plastic sacks we have as a very common and easily obtained part
of our daily lives.  With never a mishap of any kind..
 
But it only takes one moment of inattention or a single period where they
escape supervision for a fuzzy or 6 to get into trouble.  Fluke or ever
present danger to guard against???  you be the judge...
 
Loving and very careful Fuzzy parents come home from the store after work
with their fuzzys favorite toy in hand... the sacks from the shopping.  All
but the ones the soda two liters came in are carefully placed in the zip bag
so they are not accessible other than for the trash take out functions and
the nice roomy ones that held the heavy bottles and plopped onto the floor
for the usual fuzzy jamboree.  And as usual the two fuzzys that are closest
appropriate the bags and the game is on.  The others settle for outside
attack play as there isn't room inside for more than two wildly wiggling
fuzzys... With the kids occupied the couple gets dinner and chomps while
reviewing the files for the next days meeting.  After a quick clean up its
time for fuzzzy snuggles and bed..  As usual the gang is pooped and the two
winners of the original race for the sack are curled up inside together
sound asleep..  A pattern repeated often in this fuzzy crazy home.  After
the hugs and close exams at the same time [a routine designed to play and
watch closely for not good fuzzy changes] the little ones are put into their
sleep place and the two sack champions retrieved for the same nightly
ritual.  But this time some thing is frightenly wrong!
 
When they grab the sack to dump out the exhausted sack jockeys they discover
the kids have rolled over in their sleep or something and the opening is
tangled under them and neither is moving.  The double thick sack is quickly
snatched up dumping the two sopping wet fuzzys onto the rug.  They ate both
deeply unconscious and nearly blue with sweat soaked fur and only rapid
shallow breathing.  With their vet out of town and a back up that is not
ferret wise they frantically race for the nearest urgent care.  But neither
their tech on duty nor the vet on call know squat about ferrets and after
examining the kids the verdict is: near suffocation by misadventure.  They
hydrate the babies but only to keep them comfortable as they feel the end is
near and the damage profound and irreversible.  At this point my trusty tech
Bruce drops in for his twice weekly coffee and gab fest with his buddy who
works the urgent care on the night shift.  One look tells him this is not
the night for swapping jokes and weekend plans.  After helping calm a
sobbing Mom and hearing the story from a white faced and crushed with guilt
Dad, Bruce offers his only ray of sunshine... right..me... again!  So the
pager goes off and after we talk over the situation I meet the Parents and
the kids and so my own exam.  And I haven't a clue what to tell them!  The
assessment by the urgent care and Bruce is accurate to perfection and I have
never seen fuzzys this deeply unconcous short of pre-death condition.  They
are begging me to help their babies and I can't offer them a shred of hope,
not one.  Bruce sees my expression and steps in..  'She can only do her best
for them..thats all anyone can do... but right now there is no hope at all
so why not give it a shot... who knows?..  maybe we'll get lucky..' I am
thinking..'Oh, Bruce, don't urge them to hope and get their expectations
up..  I am only little me..  not a miracle worker ..  and these kids are far
beyond my skills..  and even I don't see any possibility of reversal at this
late point.' I asked them if they might rather take the kids home and spend
those precious last hours with their beloved little ones instead of giving
them to be for a try at a save I felt was an infinitely tiny possibility...
after a long long whispered exchange in their car they told me they wanted
me to try no matter how bad the odds... they felt they owed the babies that
much after nearly killing them with their stupid negligence... Bruce and I
both spent a while talking to them and making them see that hundreds of
fuzzy parents also encourage play with these sacks and neither one of us had
ever heard of a problem before that night.  Their answer was a glare and the
observation that it was highly unlikely anyone losing a fuzzy to such
suffocation or just finding a fuzzy had become a sleepy..rather dull and
slow fur kid would admit they had erred in letting them play with the deadly
toys or even realize their now dull witted and sleep sack addicted fur child
had brain damage from oxygen starvation while in one of the plastic bags.  I
did everything I could think of including oxygen and massage and IV feeding
and herb therapy and yes, they did survive.  But what is now their reality
is a far cry from any fuzzy I have ever seen.  Blaster has an awareness
level I would associate with the below-moron level we use to judge human
intelligence.  He thinks very hard just to recognize the water dish..  then
again to walk to it slowly and carefully...then again to drink from it...
and so on... every move is a long and slow process for him and play is just
not part of the program, at least at this point... Sissy is much worse..
 
She has no physical co-ordination at all and is just a limp sack of fur that
spends her time flopped however she is placed watching the fan or the lava
lamp when not asleep which is most of the time..  Blaster manages to eat
softened food and his body has elimination functions and the heart and
breathing and so on, functions are all functional.  Sissy has to be fed and
helped with elimination and has an erratic heart and her breathing stops and
jerks and skips a great deal..
 
Their parents have taken them home vowing to give them every care and loving
them with all their hearts but with such sadness in their eyes it tears my
heart.
 
And there it is..Was this a tragic one-tim fluke accident?  or a red flag
warning that these sacks are as dangerous for fuzzys as for human children?
 
 dayna
 
 dayna frazier   102046,3162
'resident of the 'Marvellous Menagerie of Mirthful Mayhem'
             MMOMM!!!
[Posted in FML issue 1608]