Sorry, I'm having a very bad time typing this or remembering who is the
ambassador at the Bridge... :(
 
We lost Dweezil early this morning.  She had just turned 8 on August 26th
and I guess she decided that was old enough.
 
I just feel awful...I wasn't there for her.  I found her hanging halfway
out of her hammock with her nose on the floor of her cage, not stiff, but
so cold.  I held her for so long, wanting her to warm up; to wake up.  I
wasn't there to know if she suffered...by the looks of it, she didn't
just go curled up in her sleep, really. :(
 
She was my first ferret, and helped me through so much of my troubles,
and I wasn't there to help her through hers.  I feel so guilty.
 
I know she's been ill since this spring, (and thank you so much to
everyone who emailed me with advice over these last months), and she'd
been holding her own, active and alert, but she'd all but stopped eating
yesterday (had to force her to eat Duck Soup), and I was going to have
to wait until tomorrow to take her to the vet because of the holiday, to
see if anything could be done or if it was time to help her go.  So I'm
unsure what actually killed her, if it was the liver tumor or something
else, but right now I can't bear the thought of having her opened up for
a necropsy.  It's bad enough that it's a holiday and I have to keep her
poor body in the fridge until tomorrow until I can take her to the vet
for cremation.  Would it be so awful this time to not know, even though
knowing might help other ferrets live longer?  I just can't do it now.
 
So please, Sandee or SaraFerret, please look for my Dweezil.  She's a
little standard sable from Marshall's.  She used to weigh over 2 pounds,
but was down to barely a pound (but would still do a smack-down on the
others if they got too close!), with a bald belly from where her hair
never grew back from her ultrasound-shaving this spring, and a scar there
too from her adrenal surgery in May of '03 (on top of her other scar from
when she ate a foam earplug when she was just 4 months old and had to get
her belly zipped open to remove it.) She may be confused and not know
where she is, or maybe she knew she needed to go and didn't want me there
to see her in pain for her final minutes.  I really thought I'd know, but
maybe I was holding on too tight, in denial.
 
Help her find Sylvi, who crossed in January of '01 and was her first
ferret-friend, and Loki, who left in July of '02, and Natasha, who we
only knew for a short time when she went to the Bridge in December of
'98.
 
She can eat crunchies again, and won't have to eat only Duck Soup
anymore, or her Pred, or Essiac, or milk thistle, and I hope she learns
to love NutriCal again, because she wouldn't even eat that anymore, or
even Ferretone yesterday.  I should have known then.
 
Tell her I'm so sorry.
 
She is survived by Razzle, Monty-boo, and Jezebel, and her grieving
hooman mother,
 
Sherrie
[Posted in FML issue 4628]