At 1am, Razz died while in my arms.  She went peacefully, just a gradual
slipping away until a final sigh.  I shall miss her deeply.
 
While I might have a large number of ferrets, I have none to spare.  Razz
was a very special little lady, and one of my favorites.  Originally named
Spazz, I adopted her from the delightful Bobbi McCanse in Kansas City three
years ago, with her partners in crime, Buddy and Foster.  She was estimated
to be about 5 at the time, making her about 8-years-old on her death.  Buddy
and Foster where always her special friends, and even today, Foster would
crawl into her "hospital" bag to help keep her warm.
 
Razz had started to lose weight in the last week or so.  She had gone in for
her regular 6 month checkup just two weeks ago, and was absolutely fine.
She had a bout of runs a week later, but seemed to recover.  Still, she just
don't seem to recover her lost weight.  In the last few days, it was obvious
she was starting to wind down, as my dad used to say.  She saw the vet, but
there is no cure for aging.
 
Just after noon today, Razz had what appeared to be a mild stroke.  While
she didn't seem in pain, she started walking in circles and favoring her
right side.  The only other symptom was a tiny drop of blood from her left
nostril.  On the way to the vet, she went into a convulsion, and became
unresponsive, but still breathing.  At the vet, we noticed her right eye was
filled with blood.  It was obvious the little sweet girl had suffered a
massive stroke, probably to the right side of her brain.
 
There was nothing that could be done.  The vet suggested putting Razz down,
but she wasn't suffering, and it was clear she probably wouldn't last much
longer, so I took her home to die with dignity among her friends, and in
familiar surroundings.  I had a syringe full of "magic potion" should Razz
need it.  Four times I gave her sub-q fluids.  She perked up a bit about 9
pm, and I noticed she had gone completely blind.  She attempted do drink
some duck soup, but it made her vomit.
 
By 10 pm, she settled into a quiet panting, and would occasionally sniff
the air. At midnight, she started whimpering and went into convulsions for
about 3 minutes, and I almost gave her the shot. Afterwards, I noticed a
bloody drainage around her right ear. She settled down, unable to move her
head, but would attempt to lick my finger as I petted her. About 12:30 am,
she went into a deep sleep. By 1am, she was gone. Of the KC Three, only
Foster is left.
 
Goodbye Razz. I loved you deeply. I shall miss you greatly.
 
Bob C and the 20 MO Ferrethounds
(In memory of Razz, Tiny Tim, Buddy, and Gus)
[Posted in FML issue 2070]