Rico, my oldest and a very wonderful ferret died a few hours ago. I knew his days were numbered, but of course was hoping for a larger number. I am missing him a lot -- he's in a plastic bag in the refrigerator -- sorry -- just a little grim defensive humor. I'm worn out with crying. Dry eyes, dry mouth, dry brain. I am sure plenty of you know those symptoms... Thank you, everyone who's helped me with advice and suggestions for his care over the last years. He was a real trouper and so much fun. I can't believe he is gone. I really just can't absorb it. Rico's been important for so long -- almost 7 years, I think. Some of you might remember emails from me from California long ago, despairing over his biting habits -- he seemed to do it just for fun! He'd sneak up behind me, or just dash in, and give me a painful blood-drawing bite -- usually a little above my Achilles tendon. When I went to a clinic I had to make something up as to why I had all those marks there -- remember that was a special problem becasue I was in California. In an answer, an FMLer more experienced than I gave me wonderful perspective on it. She talked about how some of her favorite and most memorable and beloved ferrets over the years had been her biters. Other longtime FMLers chimed in, saying it had been the same for them. This morning, Rico had a little fit, like a smaller one he had last week, and I think there had been others in the past that I hadn't recognized. This time it went further. At first, like last week, he was unable to stand and kept moving his back legs back and forth. Last week he recovered shortly afterwards -- in a matter of minutes. This time, after 20-30 minutes, he began to drool a clear but mucousy substance and soon after had rough/congested breathing. I was pretty sure I was losing him. I rubbed a little honey on his gums. Now, hindsight, I wish I'd gotten liquid into him. He didn't seem particularly dehydrated, but any indication at all should have propelled me. Those kinds of thoughts can kill you. I called Dr Dawit, but he couldn't come or meet me at his clinic -- there was a fire last night at a government (Ethiopian gov't, for those of you who don 't know where I live) horse barn last night. Several horses were killed, and he was treating surviving burned horses. At first Rico kept his eyes closed, but then he opened them and for the last hour or more seemed fully conscious -- though of course I don't really know. In a couple of hours he was gone. At the end, he lifted his head up and then never took another breath. I had just lifted the flap of bedding that was near his face to take a closer look at him and at first thought Oh, is he recovering after all? I'd had him on my chest or lap since just after the fit began. I am so very sad. He was such a funny and dear person-ality. He changed over the years -- for example, getting more mellow and cuddlesome, but was always still the same spunky and interesting guy. He was one of my two first ferrets. The other, dear, dear dear Robert, died a couple of years ago in a sort of epidemic we had here that took four ferrets. Rico had a great day yesterday, and that gives me pleasure and solace. He happily scuttled around in and out of things, including going quickly up the walking tunnel that takes them from the outdoor pen, up the outside of the house, to my balcony on the second floor. He played a little with the other ferrets and the cats (the cats had to beware, since Rico was a nipper, especially of cats). At the end of the day, he made an extensive tour of the downstairs hallway and the ferret/computer room, ending up nestling into the dogs' bedding. Since that didn't seem like a good bed place for him, despite how well the dogs knew him, I put him into the condominium with the other ferrets. He was fine in the morning and also when Sisay put him in the outdoor pen along with the others, but he didn't come upstairs with the others. That wasn't too unusual, but when Sisay went to get him, mid AM, for his special warm soup, he was having his fit and then I took him and put him inside my bathrobe for a while near my heart, hoping he would recover as before. But this time he did not. I wonder what was wrong with Rico. Whatever it was, he and we fought it successfully for a very long time. I'm hoping Dr Dawit will be able to tell from the necroscopy. I'm also hoping to arrange some ferret-related experience for him (or Dr Daniel, another vet here) in the US. The last time I tried, money problems arose, but this time before I start trying to make arrangements, I will be sure there is money set aside just for the purpose. - - - - It's been an hour or so since I wrote that, and the reality of losing Ricois breaking in pretty hard. He was so dear, such a darling. What a delight it was to see him going about his business. [Posted in FML 6744]