My apologies for being absent for so long.  Bill Gruber tells me that my
name comes up from time to time (I suppose on the order of "anyone ever hear
from Katie?"), and I want you all to know that I miss being in the thick of
things, but our 21-month-old son, Andy, monopolizes our time something
fierce.
 
At any rate, I am saddened to report that Bandit died yesterday.  Jeff found
him curled up in his blanket, where he had died peacefully in his sleep.
 
Although we are heartbroken to lose him, it's a far cry from what might have
been.  For those of you who don't know remember Bandit's story, I subscribed
to the FML 4 years ago in a panic when he was diagnosed with lymphosarcoma
by a vet who couldn't offer any further hope.  Thanks to the FML, we met
Suki Crandall, who gave us the treatment plan that was followed for Hjalmar,
and thanks to CompuServe, we found Karen Rosenthal of the Animal Medical
Center in NYC, who oversaw his biopsy (which confirmed the diagnosis) and
splenectomy (his spleen had become *huge*).  Subsequently we were referred
to Ann Jeglum, veterinary oncologist extraordinaire, who treated Bandit with
chemo for a year, until it went into remission.  (The protocol is in the
lympho FAQ, for anyone interested.)
 
Thanks to the love and caring of the people we met on the FML and elsewhere,
we had Bandit for 4 years longer than we had any right to expect.  Not bad,
considering the original prognosis was 3-8 months with or without chemo...
 
But I am still very sad.  Bandit was our first, and the sweetest guy you'd
ever meet.  He stole sneakers bigger than he was, he loved grapes more than
almost anything, he would fight you for a latex or leather glove, he would
sleep on your lap and give kisses, he would dance backwards and sideways and
run into furniture, he would sleep in my pillowcase -- in short, he was a
typical ferret.  But he was the B-Man, and he was special.
 
He'd gotten quite geriatric in the past couple of years -- he couldn't walk
very well, and his back legs had gotten very arthritic.  He slept much more
than he used to, and was always the last one out.  I think he missed Molly,
who died last July of an islet cell tumor at age 7.  Frankly, we never
thought he would outlast Molly, but he did, and by many months.  He had a
good life, and a long life, and was much loved by all.
 
Somewhere he is dancing again, and has his beloved grapes and all
the sneakers and leather gloves he can carry.  But I will still miss him!
 
Goodbye, Bandit!  We'll miss you, B-Man...
 
Katie, Jeff, Andy, Charlie, Pogo & Sigmund
[Posted in FML issue 1521]