Chip, my dark-eyed white ferret, my polar bear, my sweet weasel, died in my
lap this morning.  Chip and his cagemate Dale came to us via rescue about
two years ago.  Chip loved Dale and escorted her everywhere, but he hated
Cody and later Megabite.  Vets guessed his age at 5 plus back then, but we
didn't really know.  Chip was a really friendly weasel, would play fetch
forever with his favorite toys.  He loved this ridiculous orange and black
plastic turtle.  The turtle was large and heavy, and Chip could barely
manage to move it.  He would turn it over and over til he could get a grip,
then make a mad dash under the bookcase.  Chip could fit right under, but
the turtle could not, and *bonk* it would get jammed.  Chip would come out,
puzzled, and try to figure out why HE was under the bookcase and the turtle
was not.  We used to find the turtle and pose him in odd places, til Chip
would come across him and seem perplexed.  Then he would laboriously begin
to drag it off again.  Chip went through many medical crises, including the
removal of a large mast cell tumor on his shoulder, and an accidental injury
inflicted by a gentle dog who stepped on him.  Chip survived a terrible eye
infection, which led to an ear infection that spread and almost killed him.
It left him tipsy, but he didn't mind.  His gait was off and he walked
sideways sometimes, but he was a happy weasel.  He also got adrenal disease
and lost ALL his beautiful fur, but then lived through surgery just last
fall and grew it all back.  When Dale and Cody escaped in January, Chip
buried the hatchet with Megabite and moved right in with his former arch
enemy.  Young and healthy Megabite seemed protective of poor old skittery
decrepit Chip, sleeping on top of him in the hammock to keep him warm.  Over
the last month Chip slept most of the time, but was happy when awake.  He
began to lose weight about three weeks ago and got very stiff and cramped
looking.  The vet thought it could be any number of things, but we agreed
not to put him through any more trauma.  He was fading fast but not in pain.
He still was eager to come out each day, but I couldn't let him go too far
because he was so unsteady he started to fall down the stairs.  I kept him
hand fed, mostly on Sustecal which he really liked, and held him a lot.
This morning he was on the floor of the cage, curled in a comfortable
position, not like he was suffering.  I thought he was already gone, but
when I picked him up, he was warm, and limp.  I wrapped him in a towel and
held him in my lap.  For three hours I talked to him and told him it was ok
to go.  He only breathed about once a minute, very faint, and seemed
unconscious or comatose.  I don't know if he knew I was there but I petted
him and talked to him anyway.  Finally there were no more breaths.  I knew
he had died very peacefully, no pain or struggle.  I was glad he died in my
lap and not alone in the cage.  I brought Megabite to see him, but he seemed
disinterested.  Becky seemed more concerned, she sniffed Chip urgently, then
seemed very quiet and still.  Finally she curled up in my son's lap,
something she hasn't done since she was so sick.  We buried Chip in the
garden, and we planted yellow tulips over him.  They will come up every year
to remind us of him.  We also buried him with that turtle.  I wanted to keep
it as a memento but I felt that Chip would have liked to have it.  I think
he is dragging it under the Rainbow Bridge -- and it fits now.
 
Kat
[Posted in FML issue 2283]