Thank you all for the kind letters and cards!  This has been difficult
for us and will be difficult for some time to come.  Your thoughts and
wishes are much appreciated right now.
 
Right now it appears that Bear has lymphoma.  We're waiting for the
pathology results to come back on Monday or Tuesday to confirm, but
so far all signs point to it.  An ultrasound on Friday found a couple
of enlarged lymphnodes in his abdomen, an enlarged liver, and a mass
(probably a lymph node) in his mediastinum (between his lungs).  His
outlook is not good and now we're just counting the days.
 
We started him on prednisone, and while he isn't 100%, he is feeling
better.  He is running slowly around the house again and plays quietly
with us for a little while.  (Ferret play is still too rough for him.) We
may start him on chemotherapy once we get the pathology report back.
Given Bear's poor prognosis, the oncologist thought it worth the risk to
start the pred early.  (Why don't these things ever happen on Monday?)
 
This whole thing was such a surprise.  Wednesday morning he was running
around playing like normal.  Wednesday night he tried to play, but was
listless and weak.  By Thursday morning he was laid out flat as a
pancake.  (But not too tired to complain about travelling in the car!)
 
Bear's story is unremarkable.  He's not a spokesmodel or poster child.
He's not a rescue or even a shelter ferret.  In fact we got him at a pet
store a week before Christmas as a companion for our first ferret Digger.
(I will respond VERY BADLY to any flames on this score...consider
yourself warned.) He was a cute little sable thing with the traditional
polecat markings.  He picked me out and then he peed - and pooped - on my
shirt right there in the store, so naturally we *had* to take him home.
The two of them got along well, and then there were four, and then
seven.....
 
We knew going into this that they would one day be gone, much too soon
for our tastes.  But this...this is unexpected and is very hard to take.
Karen pointed out that he is likely not even a year old - probably more
like 10 months.  I'm just hoping he makes it until Christmas.  Meanwhile,
every extra day we get to spend with him is a blessing.
 
Love your babies; they're gone much too soon.
 
Roger & the Fibonacci Ferts
[Posted in FML issue 3865]