Many of you already know that Tucker initially pulled through his surgery
on wednesday with flying colors.  He had a second adrenal tumor (on the
vena cava) removed.  By 1:00 on thursday, the doc said he could come come
at 5:00.  I arrived at the vets to find that he had began to crash and no
one knew why.  He was given IV fluids, steroids and valium to keep him
from seizing.  He was in a stoned kind of coma when I got to the vets.
His glucose did not even register.  I opted not to take him to an
emergency center , instead bringing him home with me.  I got the sinking
feeling that he was not going to make it and there was no way he was
going to pass from this world in a stainless steel cage....alone.
 
As instructed, I gave him syrup and water every 20 minutes.  I kept him
propped up and massaged his body to circulate everything I was putting
in him.  He was swallowing, but at 11pm he threw it all up.  He started
panting heavily and I gave him the rest of the valium.  I called the vet
at 1am, God bless their hearts...they were there for me 24 hours unlike
some of the local hospitals who claim they are prepared 24 hours yet
when you call, they tell you that the "exotic vet" has gone home for
the night.  Some emergency center eh?  I have no doubt that Dr. Brown
did everything as expertly as anyone could.  He's been doing ferret
surgery for 18 years and has only ever seen two adrenal malignancies.
 
I started to recall all the spiritual advice I give folks who are going
through the same thing..funny how your own advice doesn't work when it's
you that needs it.  I realized my own selfishness wanting him to stay
and I reflected on the writings of Sonya Fitzpatrick...how she said that
our animals hang on to their sick little bodies because they are trying
to spare us the pain...and how we owe it to them to give them permission
to pass.  It is our responsibility to them to do this.  I turned on the
soundscapes channel (meditation music), lit a candle and sent Tucker
pictures of a beautiful place that was now his to go onto, free of
illness and disease.  A place of beautiful meadows and tubes to run
through with new health and vigor..a place where he would be reunited
with his friends that have crossed over...and one day myself.  I gave my
beautiful, sweet Tucky Tux permission to go there, to leave his worn out
body and to take his energy and move on.  Twenty minutes later, at 2 a.m.
exactly, Tucker took his last breath in my arms.  It was sad and surreal,
yet beautiful and peaceful.  The rest of the evening was spent letting
the others say goodbye.  I woke them up and they gathered around sniffing
and nudging him...some even gave kisses.  I finally fell asleep with my
head buried in his favorite blanket.
 
Tucker was with us about two and a half years.  He was found in a garage
cornered by dogs with a cut on his chin.  His time was up at the SPCA.
He was a big sable boy and friend to every ferret in this household, even
little Elsie who fears everyone else... Tucker was her only friend.  I
let Tucker free roam my house without any worries.  He never got into
anything he shouldn't and he NEVER missed a litter box.  He would tear
around the corner at breakneck speed just to make it to a box.  He was
a perfect ferret.
 
Fly to the angels Tucky Tux.  Heaven awaits your heart and flowers bloom
in your name.  We love you.
 
Kim Fox
Animal Communicator
Director of Somethin Up My Sleeve Rescue
[Posted in FML issue 4178]