I would like to thank all of you who wrote to me in sympathy of losing
Aislyn and with suggestions for Bandit.  Your support means a lot to me.
 
My Bandit died last night.  His kidney levels had improved during the day
and I was feeling more hopeful about his recovery.  I picked him up from
our regular clinic and stopped by home to feed and medicate him before
taking him to the emergency clinic for the night.  As I held him, Bandit's
breathing became ragged, then very labored.  He gasped a couple times and
was gone.  It happened very quickly.  Ironically, as he died he completely
emptied his bladder as he hadn't been able to do for days.  Maybe he was
telling me he's all better now.
 
People may wonder why I would elect to put an 8 year old ferret with
insulinoma, adrenal disease and cardiomyopathy through surgery in the
first place.  To understand, you'd have to know a bit about him.
 
Bandit came to us on December 15, 1992 as a little kit.  We had gone into a
pet store for some cat food and saw him.  Jack and I played with him for
some time, then left.  I had called him Bandit and talked about him on the
way home.  Jack surprised me by saying, "Well if you want him, we should go
back and get him before someone else does".  We hadn't really talked about
getting a ferret, but we headed right back to the pet store and paid for
him and asked that they keep him until the following day so we could
prepare for him.  We the purchased all the books we could find, which
weren't many back then, and all the supplies we needed.  And then,
Bandit came home.  He was into everything and was quickly nicknamed the
Investigator, as nothing in (and sometimes out of) his reach went
unexplored.  We would learn later that this was pretty normal ferret
behavior, but Bandit was our first and to us, such a novel little guy.
Bandit was never a cuddler or a lap ferret.  He liked action.  He loved to
run up and down the stairs with his toys.  He had this certain gallop in
his step that made the jingle of his collar so distinct.  We always knew
when Bandit was coming.  He's the only one of our ferrets who truly enjoyed
walking on a leash.  I used to take him for walks on the cool winter
evenings (we live in FL) and he would want to keep going forever.  Each
evening, he'd wait by the front door for these walks.  When he was our
only ferret, and even when his brother Gandalf joined us, he would often
accompany me to work and on short business trips.  His very favorite thing
was our autumn trips to North Carolina.  While his brothers and sisters
preferred the warm comfort of their travel cage, Bandit enjoyed shuffling
through the fallen leaves and sticking his face in icy cold river waters.
Even our last trip up there, when he had been diagnosed with insulinoma
for over a year, Bandit was there with me hiking up the mountain, refusing
my attempts to carry him.
 
During the past year, his health really started to decline.  He couldn't
get up and down the stairs anymore, although he would try so hard.  He
lost his vision, which made the stairs off limits all together.  Then,
his medications no longer effectively controlled his blood sugar; and he
developed adrenal disease.  In spite of all of this, he was determined to
continue exploring.  He was not content to spend his remaining time here
quietly.  Since Bandit didn't seem ready to give up on this life, I
wouldn't either.  I don't regret having the surgery done; the existence
Bandit had prior to surgery was not the life he had so enjoyed.  I know
he has that life again now.
 
Bandit, my little boy, I miss you more that words can say.  Thank you for
staying for much longer than you should have.  I know you did that for me.
Thank you for waiting until you came home before you left so I could hold
you one last time.  I think of you now with your best buddy Gandalf, and
Jasmine, Aislyn and Amber, and know you are much happier there than you
were here.  Play again, 'Ditman, and tumble and bounce and boing about like
you haven't been able to do in so long.  When I see you again, we'll find a
mountain to climb.  I will always hold you close in my heart.  Til we meet
again...
 
With all my love Your Mom, Lucie,
Missing you terribly with your Dad, Jack and brothers and sisters,
Mandrake, Merlin, Myst, Clarence, Jessie, and Sarah, and your feline
friend Binks
[Posted in FML issue 3232]