My little buddy Phred crossed the Rainbow Bridge about 9:30 p.m. today.  He
was a MF ferret and was born (from best I could figure) around Christmas,
1993.  Phred was my first ferret.  After him, I got Timon and Hobbes.
Phred was pretty special.  He was so very gentle.  He was a beautiful sable
with a splash of cinnamon on his back.  Except for nipping me on the nose
when he was a kit, Phred has never bitten anyone.  He was very tolerant
with everyone who handled handling him.  This made him very popular with
the special needs (severely disabled) students at the high school I work
at.  Phred was the subject of a little poem I that was published here.  It
was about a "flock of fuzzie ferrets frolicking on the floor." Phred like
to snuggle up to me.  He was one of those rare "lap ferrets." I will always
remember when he was a kit, I caught him dragging a potato about three
times his size to his hidey place under my bed.  I will always remember how
he would go running from the vacuum cleaner, then screw up his courage and
attack it.  I will always remember coming home, him periscoping, fleeing
when he saw me, then finding my bathroom in shambles.  Phred has been sick
for about the last year.  Phred died in my arms.  I am grateful that he did
not die alone.  I am grateful that I got to take care of him for those last
few minutes.  I prepared a box for him with some food, ferretone, a toy
ball and bell, lined with flannel (his favorite).  I have written to many
people who lost their fuzzies, telling them that I like to think that when
a ferret leaves us, there is a new fuzzie for a baby angel to play with.  I
will be setting up a page on my web site with some picture of him.
 
Joe
 
Timon:  "Dad, why are you crying."
Hobbes: "Where s Phred, I want to wrestle."
[Posted in FML issue 2766]