Many of you already know that Tucker initially pulled through his surgery on wednesday with flying colors. He had a second adrenal tumor (on the vena cava) removed. By 1:00 on thursday, the doc said he could come come at 5:00. I arrived at the vets to find that he had began to crash and no one knew why. He was given IV fluids, steroids and valium to keep him from seizing. He was in a stoned kind of coma when I got to the vets. His glucose did not even register. I opted not to take him to an emergency center , instead bringing him home with me. I got the sinking feeling that he was not going to make it and there was no way he was going to pass from this world in a stainless steel cage....alone. As instructed, I gave him syrup and water every 20 minutes. I kept him propped up and massaged his body to circulate everything I was putting in him. He was swallowing, but at 11pm he threw it all up. He started panting heavily and I gave him the rest of the valium. I called the vet at 1am, God bless their hearts...they were there for me 24 hours unlike some of the local hospitals who claim they are prepared 24 hours yet when you call, they tell you that the "exotic vet" has gone home for the night. Some emergency center eh? I have no doubt that Dr. Brown did everything as expertly as anyone could. He's been doing ferret surgery for 18 years and has only ever seen two adrenal malignancies. I started to recall all the spiritual advice I give folks who are going through the same thing..funny how your own advice doesn't work when it's you that needs it. I realized my own selfishness wanting him to stay and I reflected on the writings of Sonya Fitzpatrick...how she said that our animals hang on to their sick little bodies because they are trying to spare us the pain...and how we owe it to them to give them permission to pass. It is our responsibility to them to do this. I turned on the soundscapes channel (meditation music), lit a candle and sent Tucker pictures of a beautiful place that was now his to go onto, free of illness and disease. A place of beautiful meadows and tubes to run through with new health and vigor..a place where he would be reunited with his friends that have crossed over...and one day myself. I gave my beautiful, sweet Tucky Tux permission to go there, to leave his worn out body and to take his energy and move on. Twenty minutes later, at 2 a.m. exactly, Tucker took his last breath in my arms. It was sad and surreal, yet beautiful and peaceful. The rest of the evening was spent letting the others say goodbye. I woke them up and they gathered around sniffing and nudging him...some even gave kisses. I finally fell asleep with my head buried in his favorite blanket. Tucker was with us about two and a half years. He was found in a garage cornered by dogs with a cut on his chin. His time was up at the SPCA. He was a big sable boy and friend to every ferret in this household, even little Elsie who fears everyone else... Tucker was her only friend. I let Tucker free roam my house without any worries. He never got into anything he shouldn't and he NEVER missed a litter box. He would tear around the corner at breakneck speed just to make it to a box. He was a perfect ferret. Fly to the angels Tucky Tux. Heaven awaits your heart and flowers bloom in your name. We love you. Kim Fox Animal Communicator Director of Somethin Up My Sleeve Rescue [Posted in FML issue 4178]