Hi Daniel, Just thought I would share with you and everyone that sad regretful things happen to us all and we always think later how terrible we are and how we could have prevented it with just a little more thought. But regretfully it is too late and we forever live with the guilt and learn a hard hard lesson. This is the story I wrote when I lost one of my baby's to stupidity early this year. It hit me terribly hard as I had lost my mother and best friend just prier to loosing my little one. The Tragic Death of a Baby It could have been avoided if only I had used my brains and thought more about the setup of my ferret room. One of my spare bedrooms is for my furby's.I have huge cages that I've made for my Furby gang and large fold up cages that I have adapted for the rescues that don't like to be with the Gang. I have a chest of drawers that I have one large cage on. Another chest of drawers for my (their) colour T.V. an old china cabinet with another large cage on. A huge cage that dominates one wall for the furby gang at night, a writing desk that I keep furby junk and meds in, a video and a been bag. There are ladders going up to big mats hanging from false beams like giant hammocks and ladders going to the tops of cages with tunnels and stuff to play in. They also have a toy box, a rice box and a ping pong ball box. I had come home from work with our shop ferret, who comes to visit on weekends. I popped him in with the gang (there were 6 in the gang then) and they piled out of one of the cages to greet me and scruffy. I didn't recall my little 6 month old one eyed albino coming out to greet us but didn't worry too much as i thought she must just be sleeping in one of their many cuddly hidy holes. So I came out and cooked tea. After tea I went back in to clean the gang out, you know, litter box's and all that stuff. Fresh food, water and a game or two. I kept calling "Myopia", (meaning short sighted), as she still hadn't made herself conspicuous to me. I really became worried then. Where was she? Was she ill or something? I started a search of all the cages, under everything they could get under and up and in everything they could get in. I still couldn't find her. I couldn't understand it. I know she couldn't have got out as the furby room is done up like fort knox. I looked behind the big wall cage., not there. I sat back on the floor trying to think straight and caught sight of a little white head and two little white paws sticking out from behind the chest of draws by their water pail. For a brief second my heart leaped with relief and excitement and then died in my chest. She was so still. I lunged into action and hauled on the chest of draws and got my baby out. God she was so cold. I sat and cuddled her close and thought through my tears that she would warm up. I dribbled water into her mouth and cuddled her in my arms trying to give her my warmth. God I wish she would warm up and just move. One sign of a movement, please, please. But my little one eyed baby didn't move. I had found her but found her too late. I was devastated. I cried and cried, I couldn't stop. How could I have let this happen to my baby. Why oh why didn't I look for her when I first came home. If I had found her then perhaps there would have been a chance. I just can't forgive myself for the way I inadvertently caused little Myopia's death. I now check on them many times a day and each time have a head count. I have now pulled everything out from the walls so that it will never happen again. Please Please don't presume as I did that if a ferret can fit in it can get out again. What had happened was the chest of draws were on a lean. She could fit most of the way down but the gap became narrower and as she struggled to get out she became wedged tighter and tighter. --- This happened about six months ago and I still get upset over it and have a cry from time to time. I try to be very careful about where I put things now and still have head counts to make sure they are all there and alive. And I still haven't forgiven myself but have learned to live with it. That is all we can do really. Learn from the tragedy and then learn to live with the guilt. Regards Colleen and the Furby Gang of 9 plus 4. [Posted in FML issue 3148]