Cinder was my special boy. He was a big Canadian silver mitt blaze male with the most unusual markings on top of his head. One half was striped like a badgers and the other half was white. He had the sweetest face with expressive eyes that seemed look into your soul. Everyone who met him, fell in love with him. Even my vet would sit on the floor and play with him when we came in for check ups and shots. He one one of my first two fur babies and he set out to teach me everything I would need to know about ferrets. He showed me how smart they could be. I remember trying to figure out how he was getting up on my work table. I hid around the corner to see what he would do and was amazed to see him push a large cardboard box over to the edge of the table and then go back and get the smaller one and push it over to the larger box. From there he just walked up the "stairs" to the top of the table. After that I made sure that the boxes they played with were small boxes. Good thing he never figured out how to stack the boxes! lol He was an excellent problem solver and kept me on my toes. He taught me patience, greater love, and how to stop and "smell the roses". Something I never really took time to do until I got him. He loved going outside and digging in the dirt and slinking through the grass and playing in the snow. He also taught me that ferrets will take you for an emotional rollercoaster ride when they get sick, and how to be sick with patience and dignity. He never complained even through all the blood work, I.V.'s and x-rays. The vet tech's fell in love with him during that time, he let them do what they needed to do without a fuss. He hung in there for four months. During that time I feed him his meds and duck soup and hoped, prayed, and cried that he would be allowed to stay with us. There were times that he would rally and perk up and I was elated to think that there was a possibility that he was getting well, but then he would fade and the hope would fade and the tears would come again as I contemplated having to say good by. He rallied for two weeks before crashing again and this time I know from the expression in his eyes that this was the final time. He was ready for the bridge, but I wasn't sure if I could let him go. The day before the vets, we went for one final walk outdoors with him wrapped in a blanket and I said my good-bys and told him about the bridge and how he would be whole and well on the other side. His passing at the vets was very peaceful. He died in my arms surrounded by love. Everyone cried, including the vet staff. Cinder is buried in our back yard with his brother. He has left a huge hole in my heart, but I have Bear now (another big Canadian silver mitt blaze male), who has also turned out to be special and while he can never replace Cinder, he has picked up where Cinder left off and I'm grateful for that. He has helped with the healing process. Hugs and sympathy for all who have lost a fuzzy baby, Cindy Michou and Bear, Misty, Mischief and Dusty at Hiland Ferrets [Posted in FML issue 5100]