Tonight I sit down to write the post that I have never ever been able to imagine myself writing. Our precious little girl is gone. Our little Weezie lost her battle with adrenal disease. About two years ago, she began showing the classic pattern of hair loss. Our vet had the adrenal panel run on her, but her results were negative. The hair loss became more extreme over time, and finally our vet decided to do exploratory surgery. But there was nothing visible on the adrenals to remove. So he took out her spleen instead, which was terribly enlarged, and sewed her back up again. Weezie seemed to be quite stressed and frightened by the whole experience, although we have the gentlest and kindest vet in the world, and she really liked him (and he liked her, too). She rallied after awhile, and behaved like her usual self for almost all her remaining time on Earth. It was only in the last few months that we could see a gradual pear-shaped enlargement of her lower body, showing the presence of an adrenal tumor. We were grieved to find that it was on the right side. And our precious one was already seven years old. We made the difficult decision to not put her through another operation. Despite her increased weight, she still continued to make her way around the house on her patrols, although she moved slowly and would tire quickly. I would pick her up and cuddle her for awhile on the sofa, then carry her back to her blankie. She gradually lost more and more control over her elimination, until finally we were finding little accidents everywhere. Still, she tried so hard to be good (and she was). She continued to eat until the last two days, when she refused even her malt-flavored medicine and would not take her favorite treat, a raisin. We held her in our arms. I petted her, kissed her, and talked to her until the end. She slipped away from us so quietly. Weezie was our only child, and the only ferret we have ever had. She introduced us to the wonder and the magic of the weasel world six years ago, when we adopted her from a young college student. She brought us so much laughter and joy. When other parents would discuss their human children, we would talk on and on about our Weezie-- "PeeToos Peetoos Weezie"... "Pinky Butt-Butt." She loved to play chasing games, and enjoyed her kitty tease toy with much gusto and enthusiastic dooking (but she would always end up chasing my feet instead). Her favorite toy was a little Dogbert, which she would carry around from one hiding place to another. She especially loved telephone cord keychains, rolled-up socks, and beanie babies. She was constantly rearranging her toys underneath the desk, beneath our beds, and behind the sofa. One time she stashed two piles of treasures in my closet-- all her keychains in one pile and all her sock balls in another. She loved raisins, bananas, honey, and FerretVite. One Christmas she was even able to smell a sealed bag of craisins inside a sealed tupperware bowl, wrapped in wrapping paper. She liked to play chasing games with me, and enjoyed our little remote-controlled car, which she would pursue, wardancing and trying to bite the tires. She loved to propel herself along the edge of the carpet, letting the fringes slide across her face as she motored along with her nose digging into the floor. She did not like my screeching woodwind instruments, and interrupted each of my practice sessions with hissing and dramatic displays of annoyance (she always won out). Every night, she climbed up on my bed, bed-surfed under the covers, and curled up to sleep with me, usually by my feet. She delighted in grooming me for hours on end, although I was allergic to her and broke out in countless rashes. Still, I loved those nibblings and kisses. She was a sweet little tyke who loved everyone, always wanted to cuddle, and NEVER bit. She was so good, our baby girl. Oh, the house is so silent and empty now! We miss her so much. She is in our garden now, laid to rest on a bed of pink roses, with all the raisins she will ever want. We wrapped her in her own little mummy case, which we inscribed with our symbols and messages. There is a little stepping-stone there, with her name and footprints. Dear SANDEE... Please watch for our precious one. She is a tiny sable girl with a pink nose and a little kink in her tail. I hope you find her somewhere in the Summerland on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge. I told her to look for my aunt and uncle, who will take care of her until I can rejoin her. with tears in my eyes and love for all, "Isabel Two" [Posted in FML issue 3324]