As you may recall, Buddy had an acute attack of jaundice last Sunday. I rushed him to the emergency vet clinic around 10:30 PM, then brought him in to my own vet Monday morning, where he stayed for treatment till Wednesday evening. He had two subsequent vet visits on Friday and Saturday for fluid injections, plus a shot of Dexamethazone on Saturday. His condition has been steadily worsening all week. The last time he drank of his own volition was Friday around 1am, and the last thing he ate without being forced were some water soaked Froot Loops at 8:30am on Friday. I have been keeping Bud in his familiar kitchen, with a space heater to keep the temperature around 80 degrees, and have been sleeping in there with him and force feeding him round the clock. He has also been getting 1/2 tablet of Baytril twice daily and 1/2 tablet of Prednisone daily (raised to one tablet for the past couple of days). This morning a little after 8 I was going to give Bud his force feeding and Prednisone. His breathing was very shallow (if that's the right word; short breaths separated by long pauses). I picked him up, but although his eyes were open he showed no sign of awareness. I felt his time was almost gone, so I held him, petted him, and kissed him, and told him I love him, while the tears rolled down my cheeks. After some time his breaths became further and further apart, and finally stopped. Around 8:30 I said goodbye for the last time to my little Budly-boy. I held him and told him I'd miss him, and how sorry I was that I couldn't save him, and though I haven't cried since childhood, I wept now like a little boy. I kept holding his limp body to my ear, searching for a heart beat, any sign of life. But the spark that drove my funny little Bud has gone for good. I miss him terribly. I brought Cassie and Sammy in to say goodbye, but I don't think they understand. They sniffed him briefly, then went about their business. Bud's little body is already starting to stiffen. I phoned the emergency clinic to see what to do about an autopsy, as my vet's office is closed until Thursday. I'd still like to find out the root cause for all this. They said to freeze the body until 12 hours before I bring it in. I suppose I'll put it in the downstairs frige freezer compartment now that my tenant has left, but I haven't been able to bring myself to do it so far. Bud was my first, adopted as an adult from the Regina Humane Society on May 8th/92. And though he was never very bright, and never did get the hang of using the litter box, and was only rarely playful or affectionate, I still loved him and always will. His greatest point was his tolerance. He would put up with all sorts of nonsense from the other two, and take it in stride. He was always gentle with Cassie, even when she was a little over-exuberant with him. And in later years, though he played even less, he showed affection more, wanting to sit on my lap and rub his head on my legs. Goodbye, little Bud-man. I hope you're happy now wherever you are. -- John Rosloot, Caregiver to Cassidy and Sammy (and Bud, I miss you so) Technical analyst, Dept. of Computer Science, University of Regina Regina, Saskatchewan, Canada http://www.cs.uregina.ca/~john/ferrets.html [log in to unmask] [Posted in FML issue 1423]