I would like to thank all of you who wrote to me in sympathy of losing Aislyn and with suggestions for Bandit. Your support means a lot to me. My Bandit died last night. His kidney levels had improved during the day and I was feeling more hopeful about his recovery. I picked him up from our regular clinic and stopped by home to feed and medicate him before taking him to the emergency clinic for the night. As I held him, Bandit's breathing became ragged, then very labored. He gasped a couple times and was gone. It happened very quickly. Ironically, as he died he completely emptied his bladder as he hadn't been able to do for days. Maybe he was telling me he's all better now. People may wonder why I would elect to put an 8 year old ferret with insulinoma, adrenal disease and cardiomyopathy through surgery in the first place. To understand, you'd have to know a bit about him. Bandit came to us on December 15, 1992 as a little kit. We had gone into a pet store for some cat food and saw him. Jack and I played with him for some time, then left. I had called him Bandit and talked about him on the way home. Jack surprised me by saying, "Well if you want him, we should go back and get him before someone else does". We hadn't really talked about getting a ferret, but we headed right back to the pet store and paid for him and asked that they keep him until the following day so we could prepare for him. We the purchased all the books we could find, which weren't many back then, and all the supplies we needed. And then, Bandit came home. He was into everything and was quickly nicknamed the Investigator, as nothing in (and sometimes out of) his reach went unexplored. We would learn later that this was pretty normal ferret behavior, but Bandit was our first and to us, such a novel little guy. Bandit was never a cuddler or a lap ferret. He liked action. He loved to run up and down the stairs with his toys. He had this certain gallop in his step that made the jingle of his collar so distinct. We always knew when Bandit was coming. He's the only one of our ferrets who truly enjoyed walking on a leash. I used to take him for walks on the cool winter evenings (we live in FL) and he would want to keep going forever. Each evening, he'd wait by the front door for these walks. When he was our only ferret, and even when his brother Gandalf joined us, he would often accompany me to work and on short business trips. His very favorite thing was our autumn trips to North Carolina. While his brothers and sisters preferred the warm comfort of their travel cage, Bandit enjoyed shuffling through the fallen leaves and sticking his face in icy cold river waters. Even our last trip up there, when he had been diagnosed with insulinoma for over a year, Bandit was there with me hiking up the mountain, refusing my attempts to carry him. During the past year, his health really started to decline. He couldn't get up and down the stairs anymore, although he would try so hard. He lost his vision, which made the stairs off limits all together. Then, his medications no longer effectively controlled his blood sugar; and he developed adrenal disease. In spite of all of this, he was determined to continue exploring. He was not content to spend his remaining time here quietly. Since Bandit didn't seem ready to give up on this life, I wouldn't either. I don't regret having the surgery done; the existence Bandit had prior to surgery was not the life he had so enjoyed. I know he has that life again now. Bandit, my little boy, I miss you more that words can say. Thank you for staying for much longer than you should have. I know you did that for me. Thank you for waiting until you came home before you left so I could hold you one last time. I think of you now with your best buddy Gandalf, and Jasmine, Aislyn and Amber, and know you are much happier there than you were here. Play again, 'Ditman, and tumble and bounce and boing about like you haven't been able to do in so long. When I see you again, we'll find a mountain to climb. I will always hold you close in my heart. Til we meet again... With all my love Your Mom, Lucie, Missing you terribly with your Dad, Jack and brothers and sisters, Mandrake, Merlin, Myst, Clarence, Jessie, and Sarah, and your feline friend Binks [Posted in FML issue 3232]