In late August of this year, our little shelter received a call from a
gentleman in upstate SC.  His daughter had gotten a ferret while she was in
college and upon completion of her college years, entered the job market.
She could no longer spend time with this little guy, so she packed him up
along with her cat and left them with her parents.  Her parents had never
had any experience with the care of a ferret before, so they were unsure of
what he needed and required.  The young woman finally told her parents to
find him a good home, this is where we enter the picture.  Mr P. contacted
us and we arranged to meet him at a place of business in town and Drexel was
placed in our care.  He came with his cage, litter box, hammock, water
bottle, and a new, unopened box of food.  When I got him home, I began
setting up his new home.  He received a new hammock (still kept his original
with him), a sleep nest and I opened the box of food and gave him some.  He
was allowed some time out to explore his new surroundings and he checked out
the place in true ferret form.  As the day progressed, I realized that he
had not eaten any of his food.  I thought, ok, he is in a new place, new
people, ferrets; he is probably feeling a little stressed.  The following
day, he still had not eaten any food.  I was beginning to become quite
concerned at this point and felt that he should be eating something.  He
would walk up to his dish, sniff and walk away, and I am thinking--he is not
used to eating this, so I gave some TF to him, wouldn't touch it, Iams
Kitten, wouldn't touch it, Pro-plan Kitten, wouldn't touch it, NOW, I am
STRESSED.  Went out bought a small box of several different varieties of
grocery store cat food, tried every kind of ferret food available, wouldn't
touch it.  This went on for about a month.  I was feeding him several times
daily by syringe, which he HATED.  The vet check found nothing wrong and
diagnosis was that the problem was behaviorial.  I tried everything that I
knew to do before I arrived at the decision to go to the pet store and buy
another box of the same kind of food that he arrived with.  I sat down on
the floor and held a handful of kibbles in my hand, he walked up-sniffed and
backed away, then walked back up and took a kibble, then another, then
another.  He was losing weight during this time period.  One of the saddest
things to note about this little guy was that he didn't know how to play, it
was as if he had been alone all of his life (3 years).  He would shy away
from the other ferrets and hide in the closet.  Enter Hot Rod, Hot Rod is a
very feisty 10 month old wild as you can get weasel.  Hot Rod came to us
just prior to our losing Gismo.  I had to give quite a bit of time and
energy to Gis during the last month and the others received attention but
not as much as before Gis became so ill.  Hot Rod decided that he was not
going to stand for a reduction in his quality people time, so he
concentrated on making sure he was noticed.  He helped to get me through a
really bad time.  Hot Rod decided that he was going to become friends with
Drexel.  Drexel was still shy and would try to get away when Hot Rod
approached, but Hot Rod would follow, jump, wardance, chatter, and dook.  It
wasn't long before Drexel discovered that he too could jump and chatter.  He
then began to follow Hot Rod around and they wardanced together.  He began
to gain weight and his winter coat was coming in.  One night 3 weeks ago, I
discovered a lump underneath Drex's right rear leg.  He went to the vet and
surgery was performed.  Results were dermocidal lymphosarcoma (sp).  The
days following his surgery went well, until a second lump that wasn't
present before, appeared.  Vet's diagnosis: lympho had spread.  It is
remarkable to note that at this point, Drexel has more energy than at any
point since his coming here.  During their out time, he and Hot Rod race
through the house in total ferret abandonment.  Drexel has finally learned
how to be a ferret and Hot Rod won't take no for an answer.  Angels come in
all kinds of packaging.
 
Margaret Ann and Scott and the 15 furry little angels
 
PS: Let's hope that that 20 year old in WA never meets my husband!!!!  or
does????
[Posted in FML issue 2144]