I started out adopting Parris, my beautiful bitey gurl in 1999. She was two and I decided she needed a friend. I saw a group of baby ferrets in a pet store, and bought the one that was asleep in the litter box, a pile of poop for a pillow. Parris and The Kidd About a month later my neighbor told me of a ferret that was *put in the garage because he stunk*. I was able to track this guy down, gave him his money that he was *out*, and brought home... The Little Kidd. Yesterday I spent remembering many happy times with these 3 ferrets with my vet. She had the sad task of helping the last of the 3 to find the comfort they all needed this past month. She recalled doing their micro-chipping, (her first ferrets) how she had to scan the two boys when they were blood donors because she couldn't tell who was who. She recalled The Little Kidds CD reaction, and how she felt panic when she couldn't get a pulse right away, and how grateful she was that I was *calm*. Little did she know, she couldn't hear my internal screaming. Over the years of adrenal surgeries, insulinoma, carcinomas and finally, lymphoma, I realize how grateful I am to have a great vet, and how important it is to develop a relationship with them. Veterinarians are people just like you and me, they cry real tears, and feel heart break no differently. Ardith The Little Kidd Aug 1999 - Oct. 19th 2006 [Posted in FML 5402]