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From:
Patricia Curtis <[log in to unmask]>
Date:
Sun, 16 Mar 1997 21:51:29 -0800
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A very special fuzzy-child passed on today.  It is very hard to write this
and I know only a few of you know of my special kid Mork, but I wanted to
let you all know how he beat the odds for so long.  He was a tough kid.  He
was only with me a short time, but he touched me deeply.
 
For those who don't know of Mork, he came to my shelter from Animal Control
at the end of November.  They had picked him up off the streets.  Shortly
after they picked him up, the weather turned quite cold and severe, I was so
happy that he found shelter and found me before he got caught out in that.
 
Mork was obviously a very sick little light sable boy who might have weighed
a pound and a quarter at best.  He had roughly only fifty-percent of his
hair, and the pattern of balding fit signs of adrenal disease.  He also had
very prominent lumps in his lymph glands.  He was scratched and bruised in
places all over.  I took him to the vet as soon as I could, the first or
second day of December I think.  I knew they news would not be good.  His
age was guessed at 4 years+.  He was diagnosed with terminal advanced
Lymphosarcoma as well as advanced adrenal disease.  It was decided that
treatment would only lessen his quality of life, while possibly adding only
a few weeks to his life, if that.  The vet and I agreed that he should be
given only Pediapred to make him "feel" better, and given as much "good
time" as we could.  The vet said he'd survive another 4 to 6 weeks at best.
 
So I brought him back home again and we started the Pediapred.  He was
eating dry food pretty well, he took the Totally Ferret readily.  The first
thing I found was that Mork just loved was "soft" things, especially his
snuggly sleep sack.  He hardly got out of it for anything.  You could tell
he even hated to get out of it to go potty, because he always raced back to
get inside the bag again.  He'd rub his head and back and ears on the inside
of the bag while closing his eyes.  I put his food and water with in reach
from the bag, too.  He liked that.  I imagine Mork had never experienced
"soft" things in his life, or at least, it had been a long time.  The wounds
Mork had healed rapidly and some of the hair on his lower flanks came back
in.
 
On the days it was warm out, I took him out to see the great outdoors.  He'd
roll in the grass and in the dirt, he like to rub his face in everything.
He'd play in the cats water outside.  He'd chase a cat if they came near.
It was great to watch him enjoying himself.  Inside the house he loved to
rub his face on the carpet.  He claimed the couch throw as his, and I gladly
gave it to him, there was something about the "feel" of that he just loved.
He'd sometimes play in tubes, or hop a little down the hall.
 
Mork was not really a "people ferret", I suppose he did not get much
attention where he lived before.  I tried my best to win him over, but he
seemed pretty indifferent to me.  You could hold him, but he wasn't crazy
about it.  As time passed he weakened a bit, but never seemed to be in pain.
I eventually went to a Duck Soup mixture to hand feed him.  Eventually I had
to go to 3-hour feedings.  So he went places with me, or I got a
"babysitter".
 
I went out of town for 4 days in February and had someone feeding and caring
for him that I trusted, Mork had also just taken a drastic turn for the
better before I left, otherwise I would not have gone.  When I returned and
brought him back home he seemed incredibly happy to be home again.  He
played and climbed on the couch and tried to explore the coffee table (he'd
never had the strength to do that before) and hopped down the hall after me.
It was an incredible feeling for me, it was like he really missed me
afterall, or at least he missed "his home".
 
Mork has always been a skinny little guy, but over the last month he has
gotten thinner still.  He'd have a bad day here and there but then he be
almost as good as new for a while.  It was kind of a roller-coaster with
him, but he never seemed in pain, he just was tired and didn't want to eat
sometimes.  For the last two days he'd been in that kind of a slump, last
night he wouldn't take anything.  I managed to force a little down him then
I put him to bed.  I got up early to check on him and found he'd gotten out
of his sleep sack but couldn't get back inside, and he was cool.  I snatched
him up to warm him and placed him back in his warm bag.  He seemed to be
glad of that.  He just kept staring at me, if I walked away and came back a
few minutes later, he'd be standing up kind of, and staring at me like he
wanted me to know something.  I tried to feed him but he refused.  I put him
on the floor but he couldn't keep his balance.  I held him for a long time
and he seemed to like that, it was what he wanted.  As the hours passed I
became aware that he was in pain.  Occasionally he'd cry a bit.  I told him
I loved him (for about the millionth time) and said it was okay if he needed
to leave.  He just looked at me and he held on.  Soon it became clear he was
holding on for "me", in spite of his pain.  I couldn't stand that.  I gave
in and called the vet and took him in, the vet agreed it was time.  So we
put him to sleep while I kissed and comforted him.
 
Mork far outlived the time the vet said he had.  Mork was strong in spite of
his disease.  Mork was very, very strong.  He defied the odds, and he might
still be here now, but I know he'd be suffering.  It is just incredible how
determined he was to hang onto this "good life" he'd found, who knows what
he came from.  I also am very surprised at how deeply he touched me in such
a short time.  I knew my time with him would be short, but I didn't think it
would affect me this much to lose him since I knew he was so ill from the
start.  He had a special spirit in him.  I wish I possessed half the
strength that little boy had.
 
Mork is at peace now and I am happy for that, but there will always be a
piece of him in my heart.  Kisses to Mork, I love you.
 
Trish
[Posted in FML issue 1874]

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