Seasons come and go... and the months fly by.  Warmer weather replaces the
bleakness of winter, and blossoms forth with birth and renewal.  Each month
carries with it a certain meaning either by the holidays it carries, or of
memories we share for a lifetime.  June 23rd will always mark the day we
found Bear's lymphosarcoma.  And July 10th will always mark the end of
battle we were never meant to win.
 
It happened so fast... we hardly had a chance to get our heads wrapped
around it.  Late Friday night, we find our little Bear with a swollen neck,
so tight that we couldn't even pinch a nibble of her... She looked like she
had the mumps... how were we to know that this marked the beginning of the
end for little our Bear.
 
Our regular vet was unavailable the next day, so we went to the next best
one.  She got to be the deliverer of bad news, but she seemed hopeful.  And
truth be known, so were we.  By Monday morning, Bear had doubled in size in
her face area and now took on the appearance of what one person lovingly
referred to as a chipmunk.  Bear was our cutie pie who we often referred to
as our waif, as she always seemed to have this pitiful look on her face.
 
Bear received her first chemo treatment that day and although she was in
sad shape, she held in there like a trooper.  By Wednesday we were all
astonished as to how much of the swelling had gone down.  Our hopes soared
with renewed passion... we were going to beat this thing!  The following
Monday, she got her second treatment, and her strength was increasing.
 
The Tuesday after Bear's first treatment, was the day Akela joined our
household.  Scheduled for euthanasia, we found not the bad biter they had
written off, but a happy, rambunctious little girl.  We quarantined her
right away until a clean bill of health could be determined.  Thursday
marked her first visit at the vet, and the first sneeze...
 
Within three days, four more ferrets were showing signs of a cold...
including Bear.  She seemed well enough to take her second chemo treatment,
and as her increasing strength showed, she was not letting a little sniffle
ruin her chances.  But that is where we were wrong.
 
By Thursday Bear's breathing had been compromised.  I found her nostrils
thick with mucous leaving only pinholes to breath through.  We were
horrified and now on the clock to make regular checks to clear her passage
way.  She was placed on medications to help relieve her blocked sinuses as
well as to boost her immune system.  We tried everything we could to help
her... it was just not meant to be.
 
Today was to be her third chemo treatment but I already knew by the time I
dropped her off that her condition was at an all time low.  Getting food
into her was the biggest challenge we faced... how to feed her without
suffocating her, and without getting food into her lungs.  For the first
time, I felt my hope dissolve into fear...
 
By the end of the day, our little Bear was fighting for her life, valiantly
and honourably.  She had the best of care at her side, and she waited for
us to take her home....
 
She's free of pain... no longer struggling for a simple breath of air.
 
I see her now... running with Tinder... her only true buddy.  They are
jumping and dooking and then curled over one another in restful, blissful,
and peaceful sleep.  Together at last... forever and through all the
seasons...
 
Goodbye little Bear... I hope they have lots of bubblewrap up there in
heaven.  If they don't, I'll just have to bring it with me when I get
there...
 
With much love and gratitude for having you in our lives....
Betty and Jim and their Blur's O'Fur
[Posted in FML issue 3109]