He came here from the streets of Bellfontaine, Ohio, abandoned, emaciated, dehydrated. He had 18 ticks on his body, mostly behind his ears and on his neck. His eyes and nose crusted over with the raging upper respiratory infection that we thought was slowly getting better. He attacked the vet like a cobra, striking quickly but letting go just as fast. I put him in a large carrier in my bedroom, near the window so he could get natural light once his eyes seemed to pain him less. I gave him Amoxycillin as prescribed for the past 17 days, soothed his eyes, which opened within 24 hours of arrival, with antibiotic ointment. His breath no longer rattled like a battered truck in his lungs after a week. He had been eating, drinking, and eliminating normally. He began demanding attention, usually at 3am so it was time to move him from my bedside where he had been for 2 weeks, to the kitchen where the whole family could talk to him, and where he could see me more often. I didn't allow anyone else in our house to hold him, afraid that I could not contain the infection as well if I allowed it. I cuddled him, wrapping him in my favorite old T-shirts, slipping him into pillow cases to keep him warm. He smelled funny, like soggy Fritos even though he had been bathed a few times, but still I kissed him on the head. he never once even tried to bite. I would rock him and croon to him, bathing his stomach and thighs in warm water to rid him of the urine which caused some burns to the skin. Rubbed him vigorously with a towel the way they love, to keep him warm and sort of play with him. Poor Boy was all I could say when he first came here, but, PB was his nickname. He had a momma waiting for him, hoping he would recover and go home with her forever, after being neutered. She had bought him many things, and was bringing them to him this Sunday, to visit him knowing it would be a few more weeks before he would be well enough to go home. I didn't think he was progressing fast enough, and was going to run him to the vet for Baytril today, but, as luck would have it, a friend had a full bottle of it and was coming by here already to bring another rescue, so she was giving the Baytril to him. Unfortunately, it was too late. As I joyfully reached in to give him the stronger antibiotic I was sure would make him better, I found a cold, slightly stiffening body in the soft sleepsack he was in. I jerked my hand back, stunned, and Pam knew right away, asking was he "gone" I said yes, and I am thankful she was here to hug me. I cried a little, but only after burning his bedding and litter, scrubbing the cage with Ro-Cal, did the shock wear off and I began to grieve. I was going to have him cremated, but, decided instead to bury him next to our kitten Spirit, who loved the ferrets and died mysteriously at a very young age, so they would have each other for company. I buried him under the flowerbed in our front yard, carefully removing the top layer of soil and newly growing wildflowers so I could lay them over him. I wrapped him in my son's Winnie the Pooh baby blanket which I had saved for 10 years, and put him in a plastic bag to keep the sickness and smell from attracting unwanted attention from wild critters who might dig him back up. I cannot believe he passed on. Only this morning he took his last dose of Amoxy as though he were same as always, never indicated he was feeling any worse. I cuddled him close before putting his physical self to rest. Now I'd be only too happy to hear him rattle the door to his cage for attention, no matter what time of day. I am so sorry I wasn't able to cure him, that it just wasn't enough to save his life. He is missed very much, he was here for 18 days, and had the best we could give him. I wish I could have seen him get fat and healthy, with clear eyes, and a nose that didn't have infection clogging it all the time. He should never have been allowed to get in the condition he had been in when he got here, he should have survived to live a full and happy life. I only hope he remember how much I loved him, and will find my baby ferret Patches at the Bridge, and look out for him till I get there. Good-bye my Poor little Boy. Forgive those who failed you here on Earth. Kim Wolf Mystyx Arctic Breed Canine, Feline, and Ferret Rescue of Galloway, Ohio www.mystyxcritters.com www.mystyxrescue.petfinder.com [Posted in FML issue 3778]