It's dark, early morning. My hands are sore from diabetic neuropathy,
but in my lap is a special friend. His name is Skippy, or Skip or
Skippy doodle. He's as old as dirt, a hob from "that" breeder in Ohio.
He's only got one eye right now; the other was damaged and collapsed
who knows how. He's adrenal and slightly insulomic. He's just had his
anti-inflammatory dose for the morning. And a few stitches to produce a
few yawns and he settles back in his fleece sheet. He's got very little
use of his back legs, but there's some slight improvement from when he
came home with us.

At times he shows signs of neurological damage, we don't know if it's
from the same cause of his back legs not working, or maybe a mild
stroke.

He'll never run and hide with the others here, he will never hop up on
the couch, or come beg for attention.

He'll never be confined in a cage again. He'll never sleep on any thing
but fresh blankets and soft fluffy cubes. His food bowl will never be
frozen closed; his water bowel is always fresh.

It's our understanding he was "cast aside" to die. He was a damaged
goods; he couldn't be a producer any more. He was a throw a way. I
sometimes wonder what a handsome guy he must have been in his younger
days. His feet and neck are still very big and thick.

Well here he's someone very special, he's clean, a bit heavier, and
much softer and hugged and loved as much as he can put up with it.
Skippy is a marvel of ferret will power to us. He gives kisses, he
sleeps for hours in out hands. But this morning he's helping me, we've
looked out the front and back doors, checked the other kids in their
cages and hammies. He's ridden on my shoulder for a while and whispered
his secrets in my ear with his big wet pink nose. We've checked on his
beautiful sister Noel, also from the same Ohio breeder. And she's
asleep in her pod, upside down and nestled in. Skippy's dong as well
as he can with what he has left, He's warm and safe now and we are so
grateful to that "special shelter Mom from Southern Ohio" for getting
them out of that Hell hole, and for letting sue and I enjoy the company
of this old guy and his sister Noel.

He is curled up on my arm; wrapped in a deep purple sheet of fleece he
has his toy snake, and is licking the last of a bit of ferretone from
his chin.

I guess my hands don't hurt so badly right now, Skippy says a new day
is coming. We'll be waiting together this morning.

Have a good morning Skippy

David

[Posted in FML 5464]