While dressing for work one morning, I noticed Bonnie sitting in her litter
pan with the most perplexed look on her face.  Barely a year old herself,
she thought she had to go to the litter box, but wasn't sure *what* was
going on.  Her first kit was about 1/4 of the way out by the time I noticed
her.  A quick scoop of Bonnie into her "nest", a quick call to work to
arrange for time off, and in no time we went from a single ferret to a whole
family!
By the time they started showing up in the nest of shredded towels, they had
found their little voices.  Peeeep!  Peeeep!  Peeeep!  All day and night
they peeeeped, so we took to calling them "the Peepers".  The sound was
sweeter than crickets on a summer evening.  Number two was the first to
scoot out of the cage, so she became Scooter, so the other got stuck with
Peeper.  Scooter took posession of a friend and his shirt pocket, so he got
her and we kept Peeper.
She was the Very Best pet for being clean.  She'd go to the most extreme
lengths to use the litter pan, avoiding the corners the others used even if
it caused her distress.
I used to say she'd rather die than miss the litter pan.  I wish I hadn't
said that now.  As she grew older, she turned into quite a little nipper.
Never an actual *bite*, but she'd nip soft flesh without hesitation.
 
Much is left unsaid...
 
Then late last month she went off her kibble.  I suspect styrofoam blockage;
she loved to chew *anything* soft.  There's no way to know for sure.  She
simply wasted away right before our eyes.  By July 4th, she couldn't even
make it to the litter pan.  I didn't even care.  I knew she wanted to.  I
feel so sad.  The vet said "Oh, she's old.  It's a wonder she's lived this
long anyway."  I didn't believe in euthanasia:  what if she'd recovered?  I
always believed she'd recover...
 
True to her spirit to the very end, Peeper died biting the towel she was
wrapped in for comfort...
 
I'm so sorry, Peeper.  To all those who've lost a ferret friend, I do know
how you feel.  As I buried her, I thought about the song "Tom Dooley", where
the singer accuses: "you rolled the cold clay over her and tromped it with
your feet"... as I rolled the cold clay over her...
 
I wish I had Meg Carpenter's way with words.  Peeper deserves a better
eulogy.  I guess we all feel that way about our critters.
 
To all the FML readers, writers and "lurkers" alike, I have a request.
Could we all try to come up with some "happy" stories for awhile?  Not to
exclude fond memories of our friends who've moved on, but to balance
everything out??  I really do like reading your ferret stories!
 
Jimbo...
__________________________________________________________________________
The Family:
Bonnie: "There's a dance or two in the old gal yet, tojours gai, tojours gai!"
Peeper: Named for the noise you made.  A perfect professional pet.  I'll
miss you, girl.
GT: The Generic Terrorist, aka Ferret GT: Fast and Sporty with
"four-on-the-floor"!
Cody: "Look!  I can fly and *still* be handsome!!  Watch this!!  Ouch!!
That didn't hurt!!"
Birch: "Handsome Handful of Dancin' White Devil at your Service!!"
Frank: "I Gotta nose like a possum but I'm 100% Lovable Ferret Boy!!"
Tyler: "Oh, boy!  A whole house full of new stuff!!"
P-Nut & Jimbo: "Whew!!  Are they all asleep yet??"
__________________________________________________________________________
[Posted in FML issue 1269]