For everyone who emailed me with help, advice, words of encouragement...
 
I helped Razzle cross the Bridge this morning at 7:30.
 
For all who wish to continue and read the whole horrible story, here it
is, otherwise, just know that he is gone and at peace now....
 
I left Thursday night on my trip as planned, leaving him in the capable
hands of our friend Laura (who also has ferrets and we share the same
ferret-vet as well, as I'd mentioned.) I couldn't not go, it was an
every-5-year family reunion in southern Michigan, and my parents had
already paid my expenses.  Several of those who had been there the last
time were now gone, and I knew I would miss many others come next time
if I didn't go this time.  I knew Razzle was sick, but didn't think it
would end so soon.  I guess I was in denial of his condition.
 
He had another UTI/kidney infection at the time, we knew, but there was
also another problem brewing, it seemed...he had developed coagulopathy;
petechial lesions starting on his body, a sign his liver was not
functioning/clotting blood properly.  Cancer?  Maybe?
 
But he was holding his own, the vet started him on Baytril and he was
eating and drinking and pooing and peeing.  Friday was pretty good,
non-eventful, Saturday he even stashed a sock while Laura was preparing
his meds and Duck Soup; that was a happy day.  Sunday was a pretty good
day; again, holding his own.
 
But then yesterday, Monday.  We had just hit Chicago after spending the
night there and had a 14-hour (so we thought) drive ahead of us when
Laura called.  Razzle had bottomed out.  He was barely eating, still
drinking, but he was straining to poo, and what was coming out was mixed
with blood, and he was shaking like a leaf.  She had a vet visit
scheduled for a couple hours later that afternoon, and I needed to get
home as soon as possible.  The vet called with no good news.  The lesions
had spread all over his body, and the straining?  He was thinking a bowel
obstruction, perhaps caused by a liver tumor pushing on his bowels.  I
asked if at all possible to make him comfortable so I could see him one
last time.  The vet gave Laura some Pred to take home for him; that was
about the only thing at this point he could do.  And for me to hurry.
 
What a terrible, horrible, traumatic trip home.  It couldn't have been
any longer or more fraught with trouble.  Bad weather, road work, you
name it.  17-1/2 hours later we got home, at 4:30am.  I rushed to
Laura's.  Razzle was still with us, hallelujah.  As soon as I walked in
his head came up and he tried to get up.  He couldn't even stand.  She
said all that was coming out now was blood, no poo.  I bundled him up in
a sleep sack and drove home with him on my lap at 5am to wait the long 2
hours for the vet to open.  I talked to him and stroked his poor little
head constantly.  He was so skinny and frail, if at all possible for the
weight he'd already lost.  He didn't seem to be in pain, he would sleep,
but then try to move around, and it seemed he was 'posturing', a sign
I thought I recognized as the beginnings of the death throes.  Right
about 6:30 he threw his head up, and started what sounded like
hyperventilating, about 20 times, and then collapsed, still breathing but
oh-so-shallow and weak.  I brought him in to sniff noses with Monty-boo,
and took him upstairs to say good-bye to my other half.  As soon as
Razzle heard his voice he perked up and looked around.  But we knew there
was nothing to be done, even my other half said, 'That's not Razzle in
there anymore'.  He was skin and bones, covered in lesions, and in all
that moving around in the sack he'd peed on himself.  He barely moved
again over the next hour.
 
I met the vet at the office the moment they opened the doors.  One look
at him and everyone knew.  We helped him cross, I kissed him and was
holding his paw and telling him all about the Bridge.  It took only a
minute, he was so weak.  I told my vet about his reactions to
hearing/seeing us (that he wasn't completely 'out of it' at that time)
and he said 'he was waiting for you to come home and see you one last
time, but he knew it was his time.' Somewhat of a comfort, we feel he
wasn't necessarily in pain, everything was just shutting down at that
point.  He had enough spirit left to hold him until we got home, bless
his heart.
 
I was going to ask the vet about a post-mortem but he asked me first if
I'd mind as he'd like to see what exactly was going on as he wasn't sure
at all about the blood in the stool (and then just blood) and where it
might be coming from.  I agreed, just to put my mind at ease that there
was nothing that could have been done.  I'll get the results this
afternoon and will post them.
 
I haven't slept since yesterday morning at about 7, after only getting 3
hours that night.  I've gotten about 6 hours sleep this whole trip.  I am
beyond exhaustion, and so overwrought I can barely cry, I have no tears
left after 17-1/2 hours of near-continuous crying on the trip home.  I'm
in a total daze, a mind fog, it is all so surreal, I still can't believe
he's gone, but there's no way he could have stood waiting any longer
while I took a nap (whatever).  I've tried to lay down and sleep but I
can't.  This has been the most horrible death I've experienced, even
worse than Dweezil in some ways.  My other half was/is so concerned he's
wondering if I should even still have Monty and Sascha, that he sees how
I am right now (and have been in the past with others, like Dweezil) and
wonders if it's good for my health to do this to myself.  But I wouldn't
not have ferrets, I can't imagine life without them, but their deaths are
so horrid.
 
I'm sorry this is so long.  I am just so overwhelmed right now, I'm
babbling, but wanted to let everyone who has been so kind to me know.
 
Thank you again, FMLer's, for being there for the rest of us in our time
of need.  I would address you all personally who have emailed me but I
just can't do it right now.  Thank you all again.
 
All socks can now sleep peacefully.  They are safe. :(
 
~Sherrie aka daoine o', the ferret queen.
 
Monty-boo and Sascha, the boys.
 
In memory of Razzle, my Dorkus McRazzle, my big dumb boy.  Good night,
sweet prince.  04/30/98(?)-07/26/05.
 
Still missing Dweezil, my one small star.
 
Sylvi, Loki, and so recently Jezebel, ready to meet him at the Bridge.
[Posted in FML issue 4951]