He came here from the streets of Bellfontaine, Ohio, abandoned, emaciated,
dehydrated.  He had 18 ticks on his body, mostly behind his ears and on
his neck.  His eyes and nose crusted over with the raging upper
respiratory infection that we thought was slowly getting better.  He
attacked the vet like a cobra, striking quickly but letting go just as
fast.  I put him in a large carrier in my bedroom, near the window so he
could get natural light once his eyes seemed to pain him less.  I gave
him Amoxycillin as prescribed for the past 17 days, soothed his eyes,
which opened within 24 hours of arrival, with antibiotic ointment.  His
breath no longer rattled like a battered truck in his lungs after a week.
He had been eating, drinking, and eliminating normally.  He began
demanding attention, usually at 3am so it was time to move him from my
bedside where he had been for 2 weeks, to the kitchen where the whole
family could talk to him, and where he could see me more often.  I didn't
allow anyone else in our house to hold him, afraid that I could not
contain the infection as well if I allowed it.  I cuddled him, wrapping
him in my favorite old T-shirts, slipping him into pillow cases to keep
him warm.  He smelled funny, like soggy Fritos even though he had been
bathed a few times, but still I kissed him on the head.  he never once
even tried to bite.  I would rock him and croon to him, bathing his
stomach and thighs in warm water to rid him of the urine which caused
some burns to the skin.  Rubbed him vigorously with a towel the way they
love, to keep him warm and sort of play with him.  Poor Boy was all I
could say when he first came here, but, PB was his nickname.  He had a
momma waiting for him, hoping he would recover and go home with her
forever, after being neutered.  She had bought him many things, and was
bringing them to him this Sunday, to visit him knowing it would be a few
more weeks before he would be well enough to go home.  I didn't think he
was progressing fast enough, and was going to run him to the vet for
Baytril today, but, as luck would have it, a friend had a full bottle of
it and was coming by here already to bring another rescue, so she was
giving the Baytril to him.  Unfortunately, it was too late.  As I joyfully
reached in to give him the stronger antibiotic I was sure would make him
better, I found a cold, slightly stiffening body in the soft sleepsack he
was in.  I jerked my hand back, stunned, and Pam knew right away, asking
was he "gone" I said yes, and I am thankful she was here to hug me.  I
cried a little, but only after burning his bedding and litter, scrubbing
the cage with Ro-Cal, did the shock wear off and I began to grieve.  I was
going to have him cremated, but, decided instead to bury him next to our
kitten Spirit, who loved the ferrets and died mysteriously at a very young
age, so they would have each other for company.  I buried him under the
flowerbed in our front yard, carefully removing the top layer of soil and
newly growing wildflowers so I could lay them over him.  I wrapped him in
my son's Winnie the Pooh baby blanket which I had saved for 10 years, and
put him in a plastic bag to keep the sickness and smell from attracting
unwanted attention from wild critters who might dig him back up.  I cannot
believe he passed on.  Only this morning he took his last dose of Amoxy as
though he were same as always, never indicated he was feeling any worse.
I cuddled him close before putting his physical self to rest.  Now I'd be
only too happy to hear him rattle the door to his cage for attention, no
matter what time of day.  I am so sorry I wasn't able to cure him, that it
just wasn't enough to save his life.  He is missed very much, he was here
for 18 days, and had the best we could give him.  I wish I could have seen
him get fat and healthy, with clear eyes, and a nose that didn't have
infection clogging it all the time.  He should never have been allowed to
get in the condition he had been in when he got here, he should have
survived to live a full and happy life.  I only hope he remember how much
I loved him, and will find my baby ferret Patches at the Bridge, and look
out for him till I get there.
 
Good-bye my Poor little Boy. Forgive those who failed you here on Earth.
 
Kim Wolf
Mystyx Arctic Breed Canine, Feline,
and Ferret Rescue of Galloway, Ohio
www.mystyxcritters.com
www.mystyxrescue.petfinder.com
[Posted in FML issue 3778]