First and foremost, to all who have lost their fur kids or have ill ones, please accept my condolences. Bill, I know this is sort of long, but I hope you'll allow it. I first met Spunky, who at the time, had no name, back in August of 2000 I believe. Larry & Gayle Chase were coming back from the Ohio show and were bringing Joy, a little DEW that Judy Cook twisted my arm to take in. Spunky had no name at that time; he was only 4 weeks old. A cat had attacked him and one of his brothers, Spunky's left hind leg had been torn off, and his brother had lost a front leg. Larry & Gayle ran a shelter, Spunky's litter had been turned into them-kept outside in a cage and that's how the attack happened. When I met the Case's they had the little ones with them. The brother was doing fine, spunky was spiking fevers, fighting massive infection. Larry, Gayle, and I kept in touch, and I'd ask how the spunky little guy was doing. I lost Socks, our first ferret, that spring, April I think. Gayle wrote me a few weeks later, telling me they were closing the shelter, and Spunky wanted to live with me. She said I'd named him, by calling him the spunky little guy. So travel arrangements were made and Spunky eventually made it to our house. He was such a hoot. Little bulldog head, one tooth came out of his mouth, sideways a bit. He had this little rabbit hop run that he did, and he'd book through the house. If I didn't pay attention to him he'd run up, bump my leg so I'd see him. He'd carry a toy around, and it was Easter, so I bought him this blue beanie bunny. It was instantly Spunky's, and his alone. I'd see him going up the cage ladders, tucking it in and guarding it. He'd leave it, Joy or Jill would sneak in, take the bunny and run. Spunky would be playing, I'd tell him the bunny was missing and send him off to find it. He'd find it, it would start all over again. Once the move was all over, he loved this house, and he loved the tube we hooked to the wall down the stairwell. I'd see Joy come down with his bunny, and I'd see him hoofing it back upstairs with it. It was half the size of him, and he'd have it either by the ear or the neck, struggling up the stairs. I'd help him up, and hide it again started all over. One day I heard a group of them dooking, flying down the stairs. There was Joy in the lead, bunny tightly held, Spunky in hot pursuit, Bandit trying to get him around the neck and hold him. They all went under the futon, and the next thing I knew I saw Spunky's head sticking out, looking everywhere. He came out with the bunny firmly clenched and went to hide it. We had this thing where I'd grab him, kiss his head all over, squeeze him gently and go SPUNKY WINKERBEAN!!!! He'd turn his head, but he loved it. He'd hunt me down to have me do it, or he'd see me coming, I'd be calling Spppuuuunnnkkkyyy, and I'd see him streak across the room, peaking out from behind a cage. And chicken gravy, ah, he dearly loved his chicken gravy. I have a picture of him and Misty at the plate, and Spunky is looking directly at the camera with his tongue out. Dr. Williams and my vet both have copies of this. He was not a Marshall Farm ferret, and was a late neuter, but not descented. He used to crack me up when he'd poof! We noticed that he was sort of tired the last few days, and I thought it was because they're all getting ready for winter. I let him out yesterday, Thursday, and he couldn't walk, and I felt my heart drop. Insulinoma was the first thing I thought. I came down to get the pedia pred and saw him-he'd come downstairs somehow, and he was basically crawling. Gave him the pedia pred and held him, tried to watch him. He made it back upstairs somehow. I found him curled up, and then I noticed his ears and gums were pale. I'd already talked to the vet, who said get him in to the office in the morning. I checked him, was running my hands all over him and there was a rock hard mass in his abdomen, and I felt my heart sink. I knew it wasn't his bladder, and I became even more worried. All evening long I'd go to him, hold him, tell him not to leave me, please stay with me, that the vet would make him better. I told him all about the Bridge, that all the Crew that's there would be with him, but not yet. My husband took him to the vet today, Friday, and I got a call around 9:30am. The vet told me, it isn't good. Spunky had lymphoma that had metastasized all around all his intestines. We had three options, medication to ease the pain for a while, surgery to see if he could get any of it, or help him to the Bridge. I wasn't going to allow him to suffer, and the vet told me it was the right decision. Getting through this day, knowing I had to say goodbye, has been so hard. I got to the vet's around 3:15, and they let me spend time with him. Spunky never kissed me. I'm holding him, crying, telling him I was so sorry that I couldn't save him, and he put his nose to my cheeks and just bounced his nose around my face. No kiss, but this was just as good. And so now there's another member of the Crew of Merry Mayhem at the Bridge, and I told the vet that they're all so hard to lose, but this one was even harder. This was Spunky, my special buddy, special friend. I have to make chicken gravy this weekend, and I was looking forward to watching him enjoy it. It's going to be so hard making it this time, even though all the rest of the Crew loves it too, but nobody came to it and ate it like Spunky. Sandee, please watch for him. I know he's already there, and I know he now has 4 legs, which will be a surprise. Please have all the Crew meet him, help him out. Tell him I'm sorry, that I wish I could have done something to have saved him. Tell him how much I love him, how much this hurts. I asked him to wait for me, please. I miss him so much, that face, that poofing he did. I held him after he'd left and he'd poofed again, just as he left, and it broke my heart all over again. I'm putting his bunny up-no one will ever play with it again. He'll come home again, his ashes will have a special pouch, and he'll join the other members of the Rainbow Bridge brigade of the Crew. But I know he no longer is in pain, and is having a blast. I just wish that new star in the sky was still here in our home. Rebecca and the extremely saddened Crew of Merry Mayhem "Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons, for thou art crunchy, and taste good with ketchup" "Support bacteria, it's the only culture some people have" [Posted in FML issue 4311]