Dear FML -=20
Well it's me again but this time I am writing for my friend. Last nite
at 6pm PST, Melissa (aka Derby) had to assist her handsome man Radar
to the Bridge. For the past 2 months Radar has suffered from severe
diarrhea - Melissa did everything in the power known to man to see him
thru this, but for some reason it was Radars time. Sadly she held him
and cried during his final moments here on earth.
This has been a very difficult year for her - on Dec 26 she had a house
fire and had to move in with me. During this time she and her husband
split up, then on Feb 15 she lost her oldest and dearest fert, Yoda, and
now Radar.
She is not a member of the FML, but she did post this tribute to him on
a couple public boards. I'd really appreciate if anyone feels compelled
to send her an e-card or a post. I know she could really use the support
now.
Hugs to everyone...Tanya
Melissa's tribute to Radar
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Radar
Rainman
Ray Ray
Raymond
Baby Ray
Mr. Hands
Silly Boy
My Sweet Boy
Badger Boy
Phony fingers
My perfect precious Angel is gone. He was a wedding gift, we got
him from 24karat Ferret Shelter in Las Vegas while we were on our
honeymoon... just 4 1/2 years ago. He was 5 years and 3 months old. He
never bit anyone, including other ferrets. He was the go between for
Yoda and Gachnar, the peacemaker, the sweetie pie. To look in to his
raspberry eyes was to know true innocence and wonderment (if that's a
word). Everything interested him even until the last...I leaned into him
and my hair fell forward and he raised up to see what it was. He loved
shower water, water from a cup, water from a cap, water from your
fingers, from a cupped hand, from the faucet, from the drain, from the
toilet...he loved Stinky Treats...we've been calling them Stinky treats
so long I don't even know what they really are. He would jump up on a
tuff tote in the kitchen and scrap around on it till you noticed him-that
was his trick- to beg for a stinky treat- that was the only place he got
them, on top of that tuff tote. He would use his hands to touch you, to
grab you to steal things. He never took a toy from you without first
pulling it down to his mouth with his hand. He would chase a ball and
hump it around the room. We called him phony fingers cuz his supposed
silver mitts only covered his fingers.
He was a deaf blaze with a perfect pink nose and wiskers so long they
curled around and touched behind his neck!! His deafness, I think, made
him stare. He was always looking at me, always interested...always UP!!
He would be up for 5 hours at a time to the point he would need to be
locked up in his cage just to get anything done. When we would try to
eat ice cream or cereal in peace he would wake up from a dead sleep and
come get some, we both think that the smell of milk products was his form
of hearing. He loved making the bed, he ALWAYS helped make the bed,
especially the sheet floating on the air part of making the bed. No
matter what mood he was in, put him on the bed and he would go nuts!!
He was so fun to play with, had that perfect combination of not playing
too hard (biting) too long or too short. He was perfect and dear and
treasured and I still feel I didn't love him enough. He could get in the
kitchen cabinet, climb on to the top shelf, up and over the back of the
drawer, get on his back and push the drawer open to get on the counter
to....drink from the faucet. One year for his birthday I gave him a head
of Romain lettuce to shred, man did he love that!!!! He loved the rice
box and the dirty clothes basket, and digging outside. He would steal
the spools of thread off of my sewing machines and hide them under the
bed (of course the "other" end of the thread was still attatched to the
sewing machine!!). His favorite babies to hide away and take care of
were colorful padded fingernail files, I swear he's got like 10 of them
under the bed, and bathtub plugs, he used to steal them right out of
the bathtub, then I just started buying them for him. He used to steal
potatoes and hide them under the bed...one time one srpouted and the
sprouts got so long that it SCARED me when I went to move the bed!
He was beautiful too with his bright white bib and blaze, thick full
coat, long whiskers, fangs, bright raspberry eyes and that ever present
look of a baby. Sometimes we could get him to sleep on or near us...a
rare treat but he made it extra special by putting his chin on my wrist
and his hand on my hand. He loved his brother Yoda so much and even
accepted Gachnar when he came along. I wonder if he died of a broken
heart: no home that he was used to, no Daddy there every day, no Yoda.
Last night, around 6 his battle came to an end when I decided to 'help
him'. Sounds so awful. 'Help him' not only stop the pain but...
everything else...the naps, the soup, the rubs the warmth of life. I am
devastated.
His diarrhea just got worse and worse despite me being home for the last
12 days giving him minute by minute care. Even before that I was with
him every minute I wasn't at work and when I was at work he was with
Tanya at her work. It's been about 10 weeks of treatment, I wonder did
the meds we gave him to try to clear up the diarrhea make it worse...did
the stress of the meds make it worse, did I kill him. He lost 1 pound of
his original 2pounds, 3 ounces. The diarrhea was unstoppable, the weight
loss, fluid loss was unstoppable.
He'd been holding his right eyelid funny for awhile and I was cleaning
both his eyes for him, some goop, not ugly or infected looking... just...
there, didn't want it to get gooped shut...both eyes were doing it. I
had three vets look at it, all thought it was secondary to him not
grooming and being dehydrated (we started doing home sub q's when the
weekly q's turned to every other day qs). On Saturday half the eye was
gray; turned out to be a corneal ulcer 'very painful', I medicated and
cleaned it till Monday when we went in again she felt it was an abscess,
'very, very painful'. She said she thought it was time to keep him for
IV meds and fluid and hourly eye meds...but the diarrhea would have still
been there and he was so tired and so weak(as weak as he was, he raised
his head to look at what she had in her hand when she was going to put
the numbing drops in his eye)..she didn't think she could save the eye
and even though I know Radar wouldn't have minded loosing an eye, he
wouldn't have survived surgery and the diarrhea, the damn, unending,
unstoppable diarrhea. Even as we sat in the back of the truck waiting
and spending our last bit of time together, he got in his Pet Taxi to go
potty. He only missed the spot a few times over the whole course of this
ordeal, even as tired and hurting as he was...always to the potty spot.
Oh, God, I loved him and miss him so much. I know I did the right thing
by trying to fix him for as long as I did and for putting an end to it
when I did but I am left with the guilt and nagging question...did I love
him enough? Was there one second of his life with me that I didn't love
him enough?
Radar, I loved having you as my boy. I loved taking care of you when
you were well (and you were always well, we called you the Iron Man) and
I loved taking you on car trips and sharing you with people, your Grandpa
especially loved you. I loved taking care of you when you were sick even
though I know you were miserable, our time together was very special.
You had to be very sick to sleep with me and to ride around in my shirt
but the memories of all those hours and days together will last me a
lifetime. I will never forget the way it felt for you to be humping
around in my shirt, your little hands scratching at my back, your
breathing, your heart beating right up against me. I miss you so much
but I know you don't feel bad anymore. I hope your life with me was
everything it could be, I know you were everything you could be to me.
Even if no one read this far, I needed to write it...and if you did get
this far, thanks for reading just a fraction of my treasured memories of
the sweetest, kindest, most beautiful ferret ever.
Derby
[Posted in FML issue 4147]
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