I'm not sure if everyone recommends those twice-yearly checkups for
'elderly' ferrets just because it's prudent to know a pet's sick before they
show symptoms, so that you may better treat them, or because if you know
that a pet's terminally ill you can take every healthy moment and hold onto
it until the inevitable.  Anyway.  Potpie, it turns out, also has
lymphosarcoma (as does Friday, if you've been following my posts).  The vet
found a mass near her lungs, swollen nodes, and elevated counts of
lymphocytes (i think- 4,5k instead of 3,5k, which is normal) in the
radiographs and bloodwork done in the standard health exam.
 
Potpie is one of those animals to which it's simply impossible not to
attribute human characteristics and emotions to, since she seems so
intelligent, quirky, and persnickety that it's like having a miniature copy
of me around at times (we get into huge fights, her and I).  At any rate,
she's refused to be anything but an only ferret all her life so instead of
socializing as a ferret, she socialized to me and now I can't conceive of
not having her around to pester, amuse, frustrate, and adore me.  And now I
have to take care of two ferrets with lympho.
 
I'm not exactly sure where else to go with this particular letter, except
maybe into a somewhat amusing story; when I picked Potpie up from the vet it
was on my way to go pick up my SO at the airport (he was returning from
Europe as he stayed longer than I did).  Potpie decided to take refuge in my
jacket sleeve at the vet's and showed no signs of wanting to leave (after
all, they'd nigh TORTURED her) so I drove off to Detroit Metro, ferret in
arm (literally) and pulled into the international terminal.  Realizing it
was too hot to leave her in the car, I briefly hoped the terminal wouldn't
specify "No Pets" ("No, Officer, she ISN'T a trained assassin OR an
international terrorist weapon, she's just a sleepy ferret") - of course,
the doors clearly said, "NO ANIMALS." Oh well.  And Potpie was awake, and
poking her head out of the jacket cuff and sleeve button-placket, clearly
ignoring the fact that I needed to go in to find John but that she needed to
be a stealthy Ninja-ferret in order for me to do so.
 
I am surprised I didn't get pulled aside for suspicious activity, as for the
next 20 minutes I would wander into the terminal, arms held in an awkward
folded position, and then stand there looking around nervously for a few
minutes until I'd start to laugh and then run back out and stand with my
nose pressed to the window and a ferret's head poked out of my sleeve.  When
Potpie seemed to pull back in for a nap I'd go back in again - and she'd
wake up and start thrashing around ("Look, Verne, that girl's arm is
WRITHING!  AIE!  ALIENS!") and I'd start laughing again and have to leave.
Fortunately, there's no exciting end to the story - Potpie finally decided
to snooze for good and John showed up shortly thereafter and we all went
home.  But, the important thing is, we COULD have been arrested for
suspicious activity and under suspicion of international terrorism - after
all, Potpie isn't a ferret, but a clever animatronic animal used to
transport expensive designer drugs across international boundaries (in the
form of poop).
 
Melissa
 
 ___ Melissa Litwicki __ [log in to unmask] ___
 By the whole newsgroup devoted tennis showing
     it after scarfing fork and laughters
[Posted in FML issue 1949]