It's been about a month now that we had to let Bailey go.  The first couple
of days were horrid, the next couple after that tolerable.  It took Phil
and I about three weeks to stop looking for her when we were rounding them
up for bed, or to remember we didn't have to get her medicines ready first
thing in the morning or at lunch.  We didn't cry as much, but just slid
into that intense I Miss Bailey phase that we're still in.  We cried when
we got her ashes back, and I'm never allowed to watch Emergency Vets on
Animal Planet ever again after crying through an hour of that the other
night!
 
Last Tuesday, Phil woke me up and told me there was a message on our
answering machine from a lady I work with.  She teases me about my babies,
calling them "weasels." The message said, "I think I found one of those
weasels you have!" I called her back and sure enough, she had found a
ferret in the middle of the street.  She had opened her front door, saw a
car come to a dead stop in front of something, and saw the car move around
it.  She ran out to see if it was a cat or a dog, to see if it was hurt,
when she realized it was a ferret.
 
She doesn't like ferrets.  Her ex-boyfriend had one, and treated it badly,
so it bit everything it came into contact with.  When I expressed that I
was surprised she went near it, let alone picked it up, she said, "Well,
it doesn't look like the one he had.  It's a different color.  She's
beautiful!" I asked what she would like me to do, come get it or recommend
a vet.  She said she would feel better if I had the ferret since she isn't
home much due to the retail Xmas season.  She would bring her to me.
 
Well, she is a he.  And as soon as I saw him, I just fell in love.  He is
a beautiful, beautiful, GORGEOUS cinnamon.  A cinnamon!  In the middle of
the street!!  I thought, `Oh, someone is freaking out right now, being
hysterical that he got loose!'  Until I actually unwrapped him from the
sweatshirt.  Skinny, skinny, skinny!  Dirty, skinny, had some scabs from
fighting with something.  But oh my lord, he is GORGEOUS!  Not a hint of
what I call cinnamon-orange on him, just this unbelievably delicate pale
beige.  Big feet, HUGE puppy-like feet.  5 inch long tail, long legs, big
nose!  I was in love.
 
He clings to things when you pick him up.  He was sleepy when I extracted
him from the sweatshirt, and having nothing to cling to, he clung to his
back foot.  Reread that.  Picture that.  I was further in love.  I held
him to me delicately and began to tell him I would never let anything hurt
him again.  He sighed and lay on my chest.  I was deeper in love.
 
It's been over a week now.  We have named him Max, but call him Smoogie.
Don't ask how you get Smoogie out of Max, I dunno.  He scarfs down three
bowels of Chicken Gravy a day plus dry food.  He digs furiously at the
plastic under the doors.  He loves to sleep in his green blanket in the
drawer by the bed.  He war danced for the first time, and squeaked for the
first time two days ago.  He's been to our vet, our incredible vet, who
took one look and fell in love.  Dr. Putkonen had never seen a cinnamon
before.  He still clings, he still tenses when you reach to pick him up,
but he is getting better.  Soon he will have gained enough weight so we
can get his Distemper shot (he only weighed 1.6 lbs at weigh in).  Then
he can sleep with the others.
 
He is a special boy.  He's a breeder baby.  There are no tattoos.  He was
found in a part of the county where ferrets are illegal.  No ads are in the
paper, but we have called the APL.  I would hope someone is missing him,
but I fear he was dumped, and I hope he was the only one.  We found out
from Linda that he does have vision problems, he has cataracts.  Oh well,
no big deal, we won't rearrange the furniture.  He is special because I
firmly believe in my heart that Bailey sent him to us.  However indirectly
he got here, but he did.  And I will do for him what I do for all of my
babies - dive in front of trains to save them if I have to.  He will be
worshipped, spoiled, cuddled, kissed, fed, and loved beyond anything
rational until he goes back to the people who miss him, if that happens.
 
And every time I look at him, I think of my Bailey.  My beautiful, sweet
Bailey, whom I miss so much.  And then my heart doesn't hurt so much.
[Posted in FML issue 2904]