It's with a heavy heart, and still a touch of disbelief, that I'm writing -
Madigan is gone.  Please forgive me if I ramble...
 
Her spleen felt large to me a week ago, and when she didn't want to eat her
kibble (all she'd touch was the Gravy) I took her in to see Dr. Klein.  We
took blood and started her on antibiotics; all blood work came back pretty
much normal.  No help there.  She started slowing down - not much for most
ferrets her age, but in her the slight difference was significant.  I took
her to the clinic on my way to work Friday, so they could keep her for a
day for observation and further testing.  About 10:30 am, the tech went to
fetch her from the carrier, and found she had passed quietly in her sleep.
Necropsy showed absolutely nothing unusual except for her spleen - it was
huge, hard and rubbery like an eraser, and mottled like red marble.  We're
still waiting for the path reports on the tissue samples.
 
Madigan is the little ferret who was almost destroyed as an "incurable
biter" before being taken in by Tracy Tunnison, in Michigan.  She was the
reason I wrote "No Such Thing As A Bad Ferret," which the Shefferman's were
kind enough to print.  Her history up until Tracy took her indicates she'd
come through an unscrupulous broker, from an irresponsible breeder who just
wanted to "get the pretty colors."  (Madi was a silver blaze wanna-be.)
When Tracy had to close her shelter, during the time of the Kodo tragedy, I
offered to take in the worst of her biters-in-rehab.  Madi came to me along
with 5 others.  As I worked with her, I began to notice certain things... a
tendency to have mild, absence seizures (much like a petit mal epileptic
seizure) when stressed.  Once, what seemed to be a grand mal seizure.  Body
language was that of a young kit, not a year old ferret.  She didn't
respond appropriately to other adult ferrets' body language.  Didn't like
challenges like the other ferrets.  Didn't like "different." Never did the
flat ferret.  Almost all of her bites, when taken in the context of her
actions before and after, were a kit's invitation to play (with the muscles
of an adult, and a lack of understanding of how hard she was nipping,
behind it.) Other bites happened when she was stressed, and she stressed
easily - and then she'd have a seizure.  Her glucose levels were fine.  We
finally came to the conclusion that Madigan was at least mildly "retarded"
- developmentally slow, with the possibility of some neurological problems.
 
It took a year and a half of working with her, patterning her behavior,
taking everything one step at a time, before something "clicked" in her.
Her progress had been slow but steady - but in November of last year,
almost overnight, Madigan took a giant leap and became a sweet, kissy
twitling that would joyfully go to anyone who'd pay attention to her.  She
learned to play Ticklebelly without grabbing.  She loved Hide and Seek.
(She'd hide, I'd seek, and she'd jump out at me then go hide again.) She
started giving Kissyface - and she had the sloppiest, wettest kisses I've
ever gotten from a ferret.  She was exuberant, hyperactive, and an
incredible chatterbox when excited - which was always.  She was my constant
joy.
 
I thank God that Tracy was willing to take her in and give her a chance,
and that she was willing to entrust her to me - I had two wonderful years
with Madigan that have left me better, wiser (and a little soggier from her
kisses) than I could have ever been otherwise.
 
Good night, Baby Girl.  I love you.
 
Carla Smith  <><
WhyNot? Ferrets
http://www.whynotferrets.com
ICQ:  29478475
member, Rio Grande Domestic Ferret Club, El Paso, TX
"Every pet deserves to be loved, and to have someone cry over them when
they're gone."
[Posted in FML issue 2753]