Greeters, please make sure she had a safe trip there, since she didn't
have one here.

This may be hard for folks to read...I'm sorry. Tears haven't stopped
pouring since this morning, and I feel I need to pour these words as
well.

Very short history since I've recently posted about her...

Phoebe: cinnamon angora, adopted from Denver dumb friends league in
november of 2010. Developed enlarged spleen a few months ago, she'd
had a few bloody noses which we attributed to the very dry air this
winter... I'd gotten her a humidifier and mail-ordered some extra
filters (no use now). She had lost weight and had been anemic and
on iron supplements, being monitored by the vet, anticipating a
splenectomy, waiting for anemia to be better controlled. She'd been
doing fine...eating/drinking/pooping/peeing. Less active due to spleen
but still curious, alert, perky, wanting to get around and explore...
Acting like nothing was amiss.

Until today...

When I went to give phoebe her food this morning and lifted the covers
off her, she was weak and wobbly, lifting her head and moving it from
side to side as if trying to 'sight in' on me...to me, her pupils
seemed dilated; her eyes looked very dark/black whereas they usually
were dark brown..I wondered if she could see. She was trying to get out
of her hammock to get to me, like she'd do, only this time with great
effort. This didn't look good at all....

She didn't want her baby food. When I lifted her from the cage, I saw
she had dried blood coming out of her left ear, and blood mixed with
feces around her rectum. She did drink some water I offered her but
still didn't want the food. She was breathing shallowly and rapidly
with occasional slight squeaky noises. I tucked her in my sweatshirt
while deciding what to do (where she used to like to stay while I'd
clean cages) and she settled down somewhat, occasionally scratching at
the fabric, like she'd do to get comfy (oh, and the way she would wipe
her face with her paws after eating...so adorable...it would almost
hurt to watch her, it was so unbearably cute).

But the blood...the weakness. She dozed, with her head resting on my
arm. She liked the contact with me, just like she would reach for me
when I'd try to put her back in her cage after giving her meds over all
this time, or would put her paws on my knee to be picked up and placed
in my sweatshirt pocket when I cleaned cages. Sorry if I'm rambling...

I called the vet (the same vet who treated my pixie-doodle 2 years
ago; bringing her back from the edge of death when her foot had become
entangled in the cage during the night...I trust this vet with my
ferrets) and explained how I'd found her, and that it looked pretty
grim. I took her to his office (20 miles away..a horrific drive...just
knowing it looked like I'd be coming home alone) and he agreed, she
looked very much like something had happened inside her, whether a
splenic rupture or perhaps some cancer, or again, that looming
possibility of her not having been spayed (was going to check that
during the splenectomy) and thus suffering from aplastic anemia, since
she was so anemic. He went to take her to examine her and she reached
for me...she wanted to be with me. He examined her and we decided this
looked like a lost cause and we opted to help her cross. She was not
even 2 years old...my heart was breaking. I held her while he gave her
the shot, and continued to until she was gone. My heart was torn in a
million pieces. The vet said he'd do the necropsy today.

All day, waiting to hear. I finally got a call from the office, doc
had had to leave on an emergency. He told them the necropsy showed
*nothing* amiss, aside from the enlarged spleen, which simply looked
enlarged. She had been spayed, it turned out after all. He went ahead
and took a sample of the spleen and sent it to pathology...results in
a week. But other than enlargement, to him it looked fine. (I'll be
calling him first thing in the morning to hear it in his own words),
but he told them all he found, which was *nothing*.

I hate myself. What *happened* to her? To find *nothing* inside looking
wrong?

I feel like I have just killed my beautiful not-even 2 year-old angora
girl for no reason. That the vet could find *nothing* inside her amiss?
He sent off the spleen sample, but if it had looked cancerous, he would
have been able to see that.

I hate myself. I let phoebe down. If her spleen was cancerous, my
hesitation in having it removed a month or more ago killed her...my
heart is in so much pain. I don't know how I can live with myself...I'm
damned if I do and damned if I don't. I was waiting for surgery until
she was a bit more stable, but now my waiting seems to have killed her.
No matter what, I'm the bad guy. To have no answer...the pain of that
is killing me. I killed her. I made the choice to have her put to
sleep...for seemingly no reason? Could we not have found what was wrong
and treated it? That it wasn't that bad after all? That there were
simple explanations for how she presented? And now it's too late.
There's no coming back.

So many people talk of the pain of ferret-deaths...I've now been
through over a dozen myself after these years. Some people feel they
don't want to own ferrets anymore...the pain of their deaths is too
much to bear. I have 5 ferrets left now and am wondering if I'm capable
of caring for them anymore...that I wronged Phoebe somehow and that
I'm going to have to go thru these 5 darling's deaths over the years
and make bad choices with them?...i really feel like a failure, and a
horrible ferret-person. Each death seems to get harder and harder, and
more mystifying...this is the second time there's been no definitive
answers...the time before this being pixie's euthanasia after she
crashed, but there was nothing found amiss then either...why? It's so
unfair.

All right. I've said enough...no doubt more than anyone wanted to see.

Love your ferrets like there's no tomorrow. Because for some, there
won't be. :(

~sherrie, aka daoine o', the ferret queen

rest in peace, phoebe von plume...the fluffiest ferret in the
mountains. my phweebler, my phweeble, my phwibling. you never got
enough time to dance...and oh, her dances when she did...I miss her
so much. more tears, tears, tears...my poor little Phoebe.

burleigh, pandora, ashby, emma-wheee and sebastien

and those over the bridge: felix, pixie-doodle, shay-shay mcweasel,
max, sascha-beanhead, monty-boo, razzle, jezebel, loki, sylvi,
natasha the stranger, and dweezil...my one small star.

[Posted in FML 7384]