WARNING: This narrative is not for the squeamish, but I'm providing it as
a warning to others.  Please check your furniture arrangements before you
suffer as we are!  :-(
 
          ---
It is with great sadness that I once again must report the death of one of
my beloved ferrets, Snippet, yesterday evening (12/11) at approximately
10pm Eastern time.
 
Snippet was still a baby, barely a year old and rescued from extermination
from a pet store who couldn't sell her because she was deaf and violently
attacked anyone or anything put near her.  Over the past year I watched
her develop into an absolutely beautiful silver stunner with the softest
adult ferret fur I've ever touched.
 
She was a full-on spitfire, always ready to play with me or the other
ferrets at the drop of a hat -- or anything else you dropped.  Many a
time would I be interrupted at my computer desk by the toe nibblings of a
ferret who wanted to play, and more often than not it was Snippet who was
making the call.  She had a distinct taste for Honey Nut Cheerios,
carob-flavored Chew-Weasels, and chicken "Bandits" treats.
 
Snippet's death was the result of my own stupidity and a seemingly
innocent slip, and I will take full responsibility for her death to my
own grave.  Yesterday afternoon at roughly 1pm I realized I hadn't seen
her all day.  This was very unusual; she's almost always awake for her
morning Cheerios fix.  As I was putting in a DVD I discovered her.
 
Sometime between ~11pm on the night of 12/10 (when I last saw her) and
7am yesterday, Snippet had decided to make another journey around my
entertainment center.  She had been doing this for the past two months or
so and I saw no harm in it, as there was nothing she could get to which
was toxic or otherwise harmful.  Unfortunately, I f*cked up and Snippet
paid the price.
 
My entertainment center is two pieces.  The main unit is a wire baker's
rack-type shelf unit.  There are four shelves set on four metal posts, one
on each corner.  Immediately on its left is a wooden shelf unit from Ikea,
also with several shelves set on four wooden posts, one on each corner.
The floor is slightly off-level where these two pieces of furniture are
and causes the wooden shelf unit to pitch forward slightly (it is secured
to the wall at the top).  Snippet had been navigating her way up and
around this for months.  Last night, however, she slipped -- and fell
butt-first down the back, and her head got caught between the metal and
wooden posts, which due to the slight angle at which the wooden shelf unit
sits at, forms a slight "V" shape.  She had no purchase to lift or twist
herself out of that "V" after she got caught.  Snippet had been hanging by
her head for at least six hours before I found her.
 
Her neck and shoulders were severely swollen and her breathing was heavy
and labored.  I took her to a local vet who checked her out and gave her a
50/50 chance.  She got a subcutaneous saline injection and a prescription
for an anti-inflammatory.  She slept a lot and hobbled around a bit; I was
growing increasingly concerned.  At about 9:30pm she didn't appear to be
getting any better and, in fact, looked worse.  The back of her neck had
swollen to twice its size and she could barely move her front paws.  I
packed her up to take her to the animal hospital in New York City (the
only one available to me).
 
While waiting on the platform for the train to arrive, Snippet gave up her
last breath.  I had my hand inside the carrier in an effort to calm and
comfort her.  She gave two or three shuddering breaths, then it was over.
 
Snippet's body is now buried at my mother's suburban New Jersey home, and
her spirit joins Bandit and Rascal at the Rainbow Bridge.  She leaves
behind a very sad Sprinkles and Bubo.  I have since dismantled the wooden
shelf unit -- too late, I know, but I can't do any more but mourn.
 
Snippet, I am SO SORRY I didn't do more for you.  I should have paid more
attention to your whereabouts.  I should have checked for you first thing
in the morning.  I should have moved the shelf unit up two more inches.  I
should have, I should have, I should have.  And I didn't, and you paid the
ultimate price.  My fault, and now you're dead and there's not a damned
thing I can do about it.
 
Photos of Snippet (as a baby, taken right after I got her) can be found
here for those interested:
 
http://users.erols.com/sgodun/hobbies/snippet/
[Posted in FML issue 3630]