[Moderator's note: The bulk of this issue is two BFF postings.  If it was
a busier day, I'd have to give priority to the *domestic* ferret posts.  Please
let's not lose sight of the stated purpose of this list.  BIG]
 
This is the latest, first hand story of the Tuesday seizure under threat of
force, imprisonment & proscecution.  I cried as I read it as I can relate
to the work that went into the little girls' intensive care, and progress
of recovery, only to be cut short by "government" indifference.
        Respectfully,  Gary
 
Black Footed Ferret Press release 5/27/95
For Immediate general distribution
 
 
                                  Sabrina
                              The True Story Of
                            A Black-Footed Ferret
                     Killed By The National Biological Service
 
    As nearly as I can Reconstruct, Sabrina was one of those kits that
should have let go...  She was marginal from the start and it was only her
fragile beauty that seduced her caretakers into coddling and hand feeding
her into stability.  Born with a parasitic disease called coccidiosis, she
was never able to entirely shake it off, and anytime life got particularly
tough, the coccidia would take over.
    Losing her home and being moved to the strangeness of a new facility was
more than ample distress.  She looked and felt poorly and lost her appetite.
I'm not sure how her life went because she didn't come in= to mine until she
was a ripe old five years herself.  She was part of a group of 27 senior
black-footeds designated for release into the wild.  What possessed anyone
to select this particularly vulnerable individual to meet the challenges of
life in the wild, is beyond imagination.  Sabrina never had a well day after
arriving at the pre-release conditioning facility at Pueblo, Colorado.  She
had good days and bad days, but standard medication did her little good.
She was soon ignoring even the little treats that had previously stimulated
some interest.  She refused solid food and was put on a special liquid diet.
Her medical records might have been useful in improving her care, but those
records were denied to the medical staff in an effort to obscure even more
profound and widespread disabilities among the older ferrets.  She spent a
few ill-advised days outdoors in the conditioning enclosures before
collapsing.  (In the February winter of Wyoming, from living indoors for
years).  When I came to feed her, she would slowly climb the tunnel to the
upper cage, where she would stand forlornly, staring into space.  Her head
and body seemed out of proportion to each other, her body being so skinny.
Her coat gradually thinned and her skin became transparent.  A veterinarian
examined her and took blood samples and she was diagnosed with liver
disease.  Because she had reached the point of needing around the clock
care, I transported her to my home to hand feed her and give her fluids.
This "wild" little ferret lay gently in my hands while I syringe fed her a
high calorie liquid formula.  After a couple of days of intensive care,
Sabrina began to respond, taking her formula more eagerly and licking her
soft white muzzle with reserved enthusiasm.  She even dipped her head
slightly from side to side, which is a ferret's way of saying, "boy that's
good, compliments to the chef!".  Although Sabrina's prognosis was poor, she
was alert and responsive and even began to drink some formula from a bowl on
her own.  Because I was a veterinary nurse at the Pueblo facility, I was
examining and treating the older animals.  I became very concerned that so
many animals that had been "screened" for release, seemed wholly unfit f= or
the task.  In treating illness and injury, I discovered animals partially
blind, broken, blunted and missing teeth, an umbilical hernia, a large tumor
later found to be malignant, a variety of diseases, and numerous injuries
from prarie dogs and other ferrets.  Sabrina was only outdoors for a few
days before falling seriously ill.  Like so many of the other old ferrets,
she failed to endure even the protected, pre-conditioning experience.  Two
of us working with the older animals at Pueblo began to speak out about the
problems we were seeing.  When our supervisor would not listen--or even
look--we asked a newspaper reporter to look at the situation.  The reporter
wrote the story; Pictures were taken.  Soon, other newspapers became
interested and hundreds of citizens came forth to lend their support.  I
organized a committee to develop a proposal for a facility which would
provide a familiar, comfortable and medically complete environment for all
of the older ferrets.  The more that we caretakers talked, the madder the
bosses got.  The bosses' bosses also got mad.  Finally a visit to Pueblo was
organized.  The group stood around the cages and looked.  They overlooked
the courtesy of announcing their arrival.  They even failed to introduce
themselves to the staff members that were the cause of the visit.  The group
then went away to consider the situation.  They decided that the best way to
deal with the problem was to get rid of the people who were talking about
it.  Early one morning a little boss named Jerry came to Pueblo and told me
to collect my personal property and leave the facility.  Since I have, in
essence, furnished the project, the specter of the task was staggering.  I
spent the day with not one, not two, but three people following me closely,
presumably to be sure I did not pilfer my own property.  Animals were left
unattended until I suggested there might be a better way to spend their
time.  Jerry advised me to hurry up, or he would call the military police
and have me bodily ejected.  He frowned and scowled and forgot to thank me
for my years of extraordinary service.  Then, he announced he was taking
possession of Sabrina.  And I told him he was not, at least not without a
court order.  He proceeded to call the main office, and they, in turn, the
local authorities.  He declared his intention to return her to the Pueblo
facility, where, as of that day, there was no longer ANY type of medical
care for over 200 animals.  When I was then threatened with arrest,
imprisonment and prosecution, my thoughts were still for Sabrina and what
could be done for her under the circumstances.  I then suggested calling our
emergency veterinarian, for it seemed she would be in competent hands, but
when he was called, it was learned that he was out of town.  Jerry's next
suggestion was that she be taken to Colorado State University veterinary
facility and that a doctor would be on hand to receive her.  What ever the
care on the other end--and certainly that would have been compromised by
Sabrina not knowing the person giving the treatment--I expressed my firm
belief that the long drive of 150 miles would, in her present condition,
kill her.  Jerry demanded that I relinquish her and I finally agreed,
insisting that I be allowed to improve her chance of survival by feeding and
rehydrating her.  This was agreed, however later in the evening Jerry
declared that he was late and in a hurry and that I would not be allowed to
feed her.  His callous indifference to the needs of a critically Ill and
highly endangered animal must be noted.  His selfishness was the final
flourish to a day of threats, demands, and personal insults.  I presume that
his boss, Dean Biggins of the National Biological Survey, had made his own
calculated scheme of dictatorial ruthlessness, but Jerry always managed to
bring rudeness to an art form.  It was either feed or no ferret as far as I
was concerned, but I managed to work a Tom Sawyer deal where Jerry and his
cohorts unloaded all my property from three trucks while I fed Sabrina.  And
she was fully cooperative, taking 35cc of liquid diet.  I was holding her
gently inside a feeding bag at the time and she was calm.  I noted that she
had gained a small, significant, 10 grams, and that her membranes were pink.
However, the light kiss I planted on her head was a farewell.  She was not
up to the trip and should not have been moved until proper local care was
available.  The young man with Jerry grabbed the carrier, and was swinging
it in a heavy drizzle, headed for his truck.  The following morning the call
came from the doctor at CSU; Sabrina was in seizures and respiratory
failure; Two hours later she was dead.  Ego and mini-power trips had taken
yet another life.  I spoke to the veterinarian about a necropsy and he said
he would be performing one if requested to do so.  He was back later in the
afternoon to inform me that although the necropsy had been performed, Jerry
Godbey had instructed him that I was not to have that information.  Well, I
know what killed Sabrina and I don't need a necropsy report to corroborate
the findings.  If Jerry's department does not severely reprimand him for
this self-serving bit of dictatorial indifference to animal and human alike,
then the entire staff will have to share the blame for the loss of Sabrina
equally.
 
        If you would like to let Mr. Godbey know in what light you regard
him, his fax is 303-226-9230.
 
Carolyn R. Kinsey, CVT.
140 W. 29th. St., Ste. 191, Pueblo, Co. 81008  719-391-2627
[Posted in FML issue 1207]