As I went downstairs to say hello to the fuzzies today, I was feeling
guilty.  Guilty because the new human addition to the Rotert family has
been taking so much time, what with her being only a couple months old
and all.  I always had ferrets instead of children, and haven't quite
got the hang of juggling time for both.  Heck, I barely have the nack of
juggling time for just my daughter.
 
So, the ferrets have been shorted on mommy time lately.  I say hello
every day, try to play a little, but they haven't gotten to come upstairs
and have a really good romp in more than a week, and every time I thought
about making sure they did, I then thought about picking up all the
baby's toys, making sure she was fed and dry and happy so that I wouldn't
have to attend to her while they were playing, etc.  It made me even more
tired than I already was.
 
Well, yesterday when I payed my daily visit, Nietzsche came to me and
played and rolled over, kissed my hand, tried to escape, asked to be
picked up, kissed my nose and settled into my lap while I played with and
talked to the others.  I thought to myself that I had better make sure to
bring them upstairs to play, because Nietzsche has been heading downhill
now for about a year, and for some reason my brain was telling me it
might be his last chance.
 
Today when I went down to get them, having finally cleaned up enough
and gotten Katherine settled in for some playtime in her bouncy chair,
I found him, curled up as though asleep, but gone.  My heart is broken,
yet again.  And I feel guilty.
 
Nietzsche was sick.  The vet said he had too many things wrong to make
treating any of them viable options, and that he was a poor candidate
for surgery in any event.  He advised me to make Nietzsche happy and
comfortable and to wait until his quality of life suffered and help him
along.  That is what I was doing.  Only Nietzsche didn't cooperate.  His
health was obviously declining, his body giving in to the illnesses.  But
his happy spirit danced perpetually.  He never acted as though he was in
pain, he never suffered.  He played, danced, rolled, hopped into and off
of things until he decided to go himself.
 
This boy, who I rescued from a joyless life, who I vowed would never be
neglected or mistreated again.  When I met him he was living by himself
in a small cage, with only an old drunk and a large dog as friends.
His owner had moved out a month earlier, and left him there until he
could find a home.  His roommate, who fondly refered to Nietzsche as "a
red-eyed polecat", proudly told me he checked on Nietzsche daily, giving
him food and water when he needed it.  Nietzsche didn't leave the cage.
He was so covered with dirt and who knows what else that by the time we
got him home, my hands itched.  His collar was on so tight that I had to
cut it off, and there was no hair underneath.  He always had an orange
ring around his neck, he never was quite able to get rid of that scar.
This boy, who I love so much, and who I feel I failed somehow, is gone.
 
I know he knew I love him.  I know his life was made better by knowing
me, and mine by knowing him.  I hope he has forgiven me my shortcomings
and knows that he may have left without my attention, but never without
my love.
 
Nietzsche,
Tasha, Booboo and Cael await you at the Bridge.
 
And now we are four.
 
Melissa Rotert,
Mira, Robin, Samurai and O'Dell
Missing Nietzsche, Tasha, Cael and Booboo always.
[Posted in FML issue 4055]