I haven't posted here in ages, mainly because my ferrets no longer live
with me (life-threatening asthma in the family. They're in a wonderful
home with a "stepmom" and other ferrets that they're crazy about -
basically, everyone except me is better off with this arrangement, so
please don't scold me).
But one of my babies, Mortimer, seems to be not long for this world, and
I'm feeling incredibly helpless and far away, so I thought I'd post on
the off chance that someone would recognize his symptoms as something
treatable. He started acting lethargic and wobbly a few weeks ago; his
blood tests were normal, but his behavior was so off that the vet did
exploratory surgery. He had a large pancreatic tumor, which was removed,
and they also removed his spleen "just in case." Since then, he's gone
from wobbly to basically quadriplegic; he can't get up at all, and he's
having seizures. They've x-rayed for spinal damage and found nothing; the
vet suspects a brain tumor. If anyone has any other ideas that I could
pass along, I'd really appreciate it. From his new mom's description of
his condition, I think chances are pretty slim.
Can I just talk about Mortimer for a second? I got him in 1996, breaking
both the "never from a pet store" and the "never from Marshall Farms"
rules I'd made (along with the "no ferrets until CA legalization is final
since you're moving back there in three months, you moron" rule that was
in temporary effect). The ones who tell you their names are always the
ones that get you, and I knew the first time I laid eyes on the adorable
sable with the impish grin and the black splotch on his nose that his name
was Mortimer. Every time I went in for cat food, there he'd be looking
at me while his cagemates slept. After the fourth visit (need I mention
that he was way too old to still be living in a pet store?), he came home
with me.
That's when I discovered that the always-awake-and-looking-at-me thing was
less a mystical bond and more a ferret that never slept. I swear to you,
I had him for six months before I ever saw him asleep once. He would also
go to the bathroom absolutely anywhere but in his litterbox - even in his
food and water if I left him no other options. His endless energy and
never-faltering conviction that he could fly earned him the nickname
"Destructo the Megaferret"; luckily for him, he's had two moms who found
his excess of ferritude utterly charming, no matter how the dollar amount
of damaged goods soared. A month after I got him, he became very ill when
his vet gave him his vaccines without realizing he was coming down with
the flu; people kept pointing out that I had a warranty and could trade
him in on a new ferret. Were they KIDDING? I was in love with that
little stinker.
A year later, Mortimer and I adopted Seymour, a fat Siamese boy who was
about a year older than Morti. Although Seymour had never shown much
interest in ferret playfriends, with these two it was love at first sight.
I confess that I had an ulterior motive - Seymour was so calm (read: lazy)
that I thought he might bring Morti's energy level down a tad. Which he
did, but in exchange he was carefully schooled in the methods of climbing
things, stealing things, breaking things and getting into dangerous
situations. But watching the two of them together was worth anything;
I'll never lose the mental picture of the night I came home to see
Seymour's head poking out from beneath a jacket that had fallen off the
back of a chair. He had a funny, frozen look on his face, and I panicked,
thinking the chair leg had somehow gotten on top of him. I pulled back
the jacket to find Seymour perfectly fine if motionless and Mortimer
curled up asleep against his chest; he only turned his head the tiniest
bit to kiss me hello, and I'd swear he was holding very still so as not
to wake his friend. The two of them are quite a team to this day; I worry
about how Seymour will take it when he loses his best pal.
OK, thanks for letting me ramble. I need to go cry for an hour or two
now.
Elizabeth
[Posted in FML issue 3607]
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