They say that bad things happen in threes, I certainly hope I have had my fill. Over Easter I had to help both Bartles and Jaymes cross the Rainbow Bridge. Many of you sent your heartfelt condolences, and I was grateful for your understanding and compassion. Two months ago, Thelma (yes, she does have a sister Louise!) went in for exploratory surgery. Nothing serious was found (she had inflamed bowels), was treated for this, and all was well. (Side note - she had been having problems digesting her food, and pooping ... meds weren't working properly, etc..) However, within 2-3 weeks after surgery, she sounded like she had a cold. On to amoxy she went for 10 days, to no avail. Her breathing was checked, and nothing serious could be detected. On Saturday, she went in for an x-ray and the results showed that she had an enlarged heart and fluid in her lungs. I brought her home and she was being treated with Lasix. I was told that results should come in 48-72 hours. Unfortunately, she got worse. I brought her in on Thursday, she had her cardio-ultrasound done on Friday afternoon. I wasn't home on Friday night to hear the results, I was attending my university graduation. Saturday morning, I got up and called the vet to inquire. The news was very bad. Her heart had expanded to almost three times the size of the week before, her lungs were extremely full of fluids, and her blood pressure was very low. In other words, my little darling was dying, and once again, there was nothing that I could do to help her. I went into the hospital, and held my sweet little girl in my arms, and released her from her pain and suffering (and she was suffering, the poor thing could hardly breathe, and could not even run anymore). I had a very good friend of mine come with me for support, (you know who you are if you are reading this), and my heart went out to her. She owns ten ferrets, and is a wonderful ferret mom, but she has never had to go through anything like this yet. She cried as much as I did, and I hope she knows how much I appreciated her being there with me. Thelma was only two years old. I rescued her and her sister when she was nine months old. The two of them were hellions. They had been sitting in a pet store for 8 months getting poked and prodded at constantly. They bit and drew blood like there was no tomorrow. A funny story about Thelma which will always stay with me .... The first or second day that I had her and her sister with me, they were running around the apartment (I knew they both bit really badly), and I was in barefeet (not the smartest of ideas!!!) Anyway, she saw flesh and tore after me like a bat out of hell, and I ran ... down the hallway and up onto my bed ... I am standing on my bed thinking - this is cute - I run a shelter, I pride myself on being able to rehabilitate biters (have rehabilitated a number of them) and I am hiding from this fuzzy who probably doesn't even weigh more than two pounds!! Needless to say, after 4 or 5 months, both her and Louise came around. I was the only one who could handle her without getting bit. (Her sister is like that too - whoever picks her up gets nailed, the minute I pick her up, she's soft as butter!!) Thelma certainly gave me a new perspective on life. She was an aggressive ferret, but she was also a fighter. And once she learned to trust, she gave herself to me completely. I will never forget the day that came when I could hold her and she no longer bit. That feeling of accomplishment and bonding is one I will never forget. Please put Thelma in your thoughts tonight, she was way too young to have to cross the bridge. I know she is with her two brothers who loved her very much, but God I wish there was something I could have done to help her live a longer and happier life. Marion [Posted in FML issue 3417]