Tarzee left me a little after midnight.  I was holding him on my chest
and telling him I loved him, very softly in the darkness.  He went like
he lived, gangfires up to the very end.  He never let up until today.
 
I can't believe my little Tarzee has ceased to exist, so must believe his
wonderous little soul was needed by baby Squeek, and other remembered fur
kids, or those who weren't so lucky and left this world a harder way.  Each
has his own path and Tarzee's was bold and beautiful.  He leaves a wide
path open and empty in our home and our hearts.  But one full of beautiful
furrzy Tarzan memories.
 
Bless you all for sharing a love of these sweet little miracles we call
ferrets.
 
Thank you so,
 
Lynn and Tarzan, in spirit
 
******************************************************
 
I wrote this last night, rather today very early in the morning, and today,
a beautful and sunny Seattle summer day, I face burying my great baby boy,
who was only three and about five months old.  I have written him one of
my long, windy poems, of which I'll spare our dear membership :)
 
There are really no words to express his amazing, prizmatic soul, nor his
heart, a vat everfilling of golden love and riches for all blessed to be
touched by him.
 
I was so upset when he turned three, because I couldn't bear the thought
of ever losing him and... now... here we are.
 
What did Tarz love?  Popping balloons on a warm, sunny day; fetching the
balls he craftily turned and turned until he found the bottom squeeker and
grabbed it in his teeth (and taught all the other fur kids this trick) and
carted it off; being moms funny boy by posting a yellow rubber glove on his
head and waving at me, by putting a wrist fanny pack on his neck and showing
up for Saint Bernard service; wrapping a wild branch round his eyes and
leaping and bounding in a free, twisting dance, at Percy's funeral.
Sleeping hard and playing hard.  Telling mommy if someone was sick by
lying upon them and embraching them.  And socks, above all socks, which he
galloped around with fervently, keeping daddy's feet funny in unmatched
pairs.
 
My Tarz was just a love, a hunky handsome love, and I miss him so.
 
He fielded chemo valiantly, and his doc says maybe either he was bleeding
due to the cancer (ulcers) or his immune system backfired (can happen with
some lympho cases she says) and destroyed his red blood cells.  But he went
fast, true to his style, and he waited until mommy was all ready for bed
and holding him in her arms, to go, waited until she whispered words of
love, had told him it was okay, and whispered more words of love.
 
He was a gent through and through, my Tarzan Ramakrishnaiah Rapscalian
(Rapsco) Stallione, aka Eukanuba Boy!
 
He was a gent, my little Rhett Butler-handsome fighter pilot.
 
He was my gent,
 
Lynn and six wonderous fuzzies, and the wonderful star-pushing
spirits, Schroedee Boat, Squeek and neural-tube siblings, Percy, and,
our Tarz...
[Posted in FML issue 2406]