I have received some treasured writings from several of you about
Cheyenne.  I have printed them to keep forever.  Another person sent me
pictures of the Christmas party last night-not knowing that I was holding
Cheyenne in my arms.  Wow.  What a special gift.
 
I received a card in the mail that just choked me up.  It would be hard
to imagine a greater honor and kindness.  It came from someone who
embodies ferret beauty-life, illness, and death.  I see the kindest soul
every time I see this person.  My respect for her commitment and sweetest
nature would put her on a pedestal.  But as imperfect human beings, none
of us belong there.  So there she stands in the air-no pedestal-in my
thoughts and heart.  Thank you for the card and what you wrote Mary S.
 
And now-another treasured writing.  And in it-the ghostly aftermath of a
glimpse of Cheyenne just in the corner of my eye.
 
But I have had a much stronger ghost.  A rubbing of fur at my ankles in
the kitchen.  I look down immediately.  There is no one to be seen as I
turn around and around.  Cheyenne.
 
And the day after he died?  He would climb up in the middle of every
night he was free roaming and well and chomp on my wrist for a ferret
treat.  If I rolled over to avoid him, he would scratch on my back.  He
taught me not to avoid the inevitable.  The plastic container of stinky
chicken treats kept next to my head on the bed had to be opened, and a
few stinky treats dispersed.
 
After his death-in the middle of the night came the chomp.  That sure
woke me up.  I felt the body as I always did.  Cheyenne was long and bony
and thin.  This body was heavy.  I rolled over.  A scratching at my
back--just like Cheyenne.  A ferret body walked over me and got hold of
my wrist again.  The gnawing much stronger now.  Ouch!  Just like
Cheyenne.
 
I always felt the body of Cheyenne before I opened the box.  No one else
but Cheyenne ever did this.
 
It is as though the ghost of Cheyenne told Sunny to continue on, so I
would never be all alone at night.  For there he is now-night after
night.  My gentle Sunny Rhino Mudd has taken over the task of waking me
up in the middle of the night the exact same way as Cheyenne.  And you
know what is also peculiar?
 
He does not even take the treat.
 
I believe that all things are possible.
Lisette
[Posted in FML issue 3886]