This post is for Mikette, and for all those loveable elder ferrets.

My Mikette (my first ferret, whom I got as a kit) passed away at seven
years of age. No small feat considering she had right adrenal surgery
at age 3, became insulinomic a year later, and in her later years was
(although no test was conclusive) most likely adrenal again.

Fast forward to her seven year old self: bald except for a fuzzie head,
huge pred belly, and awkward weakened back legs that could only help
her get around on carpet, and even then not so smoothly.

I'm sure most would have taken one look and condemned her. But oh, if
they took a second look.

If they noticed that as she walked, she just did as well as she could
and didn't seem to notice her impediment. If they noticed her snuggling
into a fresh fleece tunnel, rubbing her bald little neck cozily against
the fabric in bliss. If they noticed the unending kisses she would
give a human nose, finally not tempted to nibble. If they noticed how
readily she accepted her meds, licking them up with tone like the
little trooper she was. If they noticed her slurping up her soup and
crunching her kibble with the same zest she had for life.

If they had noticed all this they would have known that even in her
seventh year, it was a life to celebrate. And if they had noticed, when
I finally made the decision to let her go in peace, how long she hung
on to life, how even the vet couldn't believe her little body was still
beating in my arms, they would have realized how full of life she was.
It breaks my heart.

But really, she fills my heart - her, her existence, her memory. It
fills my broken heart.

Risa

[Posted in FML 5874]