They say that bad things happen in threes, I certainly hope I have had my
fill.  Over Easter I had to help both Bartles and Jaymes cross the Rainbow
Bridge.  Many of you sent your heartfelt condolences, and I was grateful
for your understanding and compassion.
 
Two months ago, Thelma (yes, she does have a sister Louise!) went in for
exploratory surgery.  Nothing serious was found (she had inflamed bowels),
was treated for this, and all was well.  (Side note - she had been having
problems digesting her food, and pooping ... meds weren't working properly,
etc..)  However, within 2-3 weeks after surgery, she sounded like she had
a cold.  On to amoxy she went for 10 days, to no avail.  Her breathing was
checked, and nothing serious could be detected.  On Saturday, she went in
for an x-ray and the results showed that she had an enlarged heart and
fluid in her lungs.  I brought her home and she was being treated with
Lasix.  I was told that results should come in 48-72 hours.  Unfortunately,
she got worse.  I brought her in on Thursday, she had her cardio-ultrasound
done on Friday afternoon.  I wasn't home on Friday night to hear the
results, I was attending my university graduation.  Saturday morning, I got
up and called the vet to inquire.  The news was very bad.  Her heart had
expanded to almost three times the size of the week before, her lungs were
extremely full of fluids, and her blood pressure was very low.  In other
words, my little darling was dying, and once again, there was nothing that
I could do to help her.  I went into the hospital, and held my sweet little
girl in my arms, and released her from her pain and suffering (and she was
suffering, the poor thing could hardly breathe, and could not even run
anymore).  I had a very good friend of mine come with me for support, (you
know who you are if you are reading this), and my heart went out to her.
She owns ten ferrets, and is a wonderful ferret mom, but she has never had
to go through anything like this yet.  She cried as much as I did, and I
hope she knows how much I appreciated her being there with me.
 
Thelma was only two years old.  I rescued her and her sister when she was
nine months old.  The two of them were hellions.  They had been sitting in
a pet store for 8 months getting poked and prodded at constantly.  They bit
and drew blood like there was no tomorrow.  A funny story about Thelma
which will always stay with me .... The first or second day that I had
her and her sister with me, they were running around the apartment (I knew
they both bit really badly), and I was in barefeet (not the smartest of
ideas!!!) Anyway, she saw flesh and tore after me like a bat out of hell,
and I ran ... down the hallway and up onto my bed ... I am standing on
my bed thinking - this is cute - I run a shelter, I pride myself on being
able to rehabilitate biters (have rehabilitated a number of them) and I
am hiding from this fuzzy who probably doesn't even weigh more than two
pounds!!  Needless to say, after 4 or 5 months, both her and Louise came
around.  I was the only one who could handle her without getting bit.
(Her sister is like that too - whoever picks her up gets nailed, the minute
I pick her up, she's soft as butter!!) Thelma certainly gave me a new
perspective on life.  She was an aggressive ferret, but she was also a
fighter.  And once she learned to trust, she gave herself to me completely.
I will never forget the day that came when I could hold her and she no
longer bit.  That feeling of accomplishment and bonding is one I will
never forget.
 
Please put Thelma in your thoughts tonight, she was way too young to have
to cross the bridge.  I know she is with her two brothers who loved her
very much, but God I wish there was something I could have done to help
her live a longer and happier life.
 
Marion
[Posted in FML issue 3417]