Okay, first off, I'll admit I'm one of those people who cry at the drop of a hat. Hallmark commercials, "special moments" on tv shows, and Oprah are the worst causes. Hey, some people drink, I cry! But that's really not why my eyes welled up after reading Troy Lynn Eckart's post about bonding ferrets (although, it was about not splitting them up). When Phil and I lost our first ferret, my beautiful sweet Bailey, last November, I honestly didn't know which way was up for a couple of days. We had bought her in trauma and lost her in trauma. It was a horrible, God awful experience, the absolute worst of my 27 years. When we had to let her go that day, she took a huge piece of me with her. She was a placid, calm ferret. She war danced only occassionally, and it was cause for great joyous cheerings from us. She wasn't as vocal as some of my others, and she didn't give kisses as freely as others. When ever she kissed me in those last couple weeks, I cried every time. I talked to her constantly when she was so sick that last week, telling her it was okay for her to go if she had to. I would lay on the floor beside her all night, sometimes just nose to nose because she didn't want to be touched. I tried every way I knew how to make sure she knew that I loved her, that I would do anything to make her feel better, and that I could let her go if she needed to go. I know the intense pain, sense of loss and unbelievable amount of "something isn't right" I felt when she died. I can't imagine how another ferret would feel. Bailey had been pretty much on her own, in her own cage for the last few months. She wanted it, as the others are still young enough that they want to drag her all over the house. One of them, a male who can be aggressive towards new ferrets, didn't know her smell well enough to not want to dominate her when he did come across her. But I'll never forget the day I left her out because she was comfortable and sleeping, and I let Otto out. When I realized what I had done, and ran to find her, I found Otto asleep with her, wrapped around her like a spoon. He must have known. The only one who really knew when she was gone was Bailey's cagemate for a year or so, Boo. Boo sniffed around, lay on her blankets for a little bit and generally just stuck her little tiny Boo head here and there to find her. It's coming on a year now. I have her picture and her ashes on my desk. I can still remember how she felt in my arms, how sleek her fur was and how beautiful her mask and her chocolate feet were. Sometimes I still cry because I miss her, and above all, because I want to believe she knew that I loved her. I look at my eight, I see how they play together, pair off together, sleep tangled together. I could never separate them. Phil and I have agreed that we would never get into a circumstance with housing or a job or what ever, that we couldn't take them. If something horrendous happened, and we had to place them, or a friend of ours had to place them, she knows which pairs need to stay together. Make sure someone knows that! Put it in writing, keep it with their health records. Tell it to your vet! You never know when Something Bad may happen and you can't relay that. Julie [Posted in FML issue 3147]