Boris Ferretloff, the most dignified and bravest ferret I've ever known, died peacefully this morning at 6:30 a.m. On Tuesday evening, Boris suffered another stroke. This second one was massive and left him paralyzed. Thankfully, he never suffered any pain. Because he wasn't in pain, both his vet and I chose to let Nature take its course and allow Boris to make the trip to Rainbow Bridge as he had lived, on his own terms and in his own time. All of the other ferrets here seemed to know what was happening yesterday -- from time to time, they each would visit Boris, but playtime was ignored. Instead, each wandered around quietly. As the end drew closer, I decided to move Boris to a pillow on the floor and let the other ferrets out. Each came up and gave Boris one last kiss. For the last half hour, I held Boris cradled in my arms and at 6:30, he sighed and rested his head against my chest. When I laid him back on the pillow, poor Dixon (my little deaf and retarded badger) rushed back to his cage and brought Boris a mouthful of food -- that brought the first brief rush of tears. Boris was laid to rest wrapped in a flannel blanket I had made for him and covered by his favorite hammock with Dixon's last gift among the roots of a tree in the side yard where the first rays of the morning sun reach, which brought another brief rush of tears. I still don't know if I should sit here and cry or celebrate Boris' quiet dignity and courage. I hope I have the same dignity when my time comes. Boris came to me last September from a horrible former home. He had been left outside in a cage in Ohio the winter before and had lost both his hind feet and tail during the subzero winter they had. Then he and his cage mate, Anastasia, had been abandoned at a shelter in Kentucky. Thanks to the wonderful people at Skunks As Pets, Boris and Anastasia came to me. Because of his ill care, it was impossible to accurately estimate his age. We do know that Boris was somewhere between 9 - 12 years old. Despite his previous experiences, Boris was so sweet natured and always ready to share kisses -- I got his last one at 6 am this morning. Boris is leaving much more than memories behind. Shortly before his first stroke earlier this month, Boris became the father to the litter Tiny is carrying. She is due sometime the second week of April. I hope she has a sable boy that looks like his father. He'll be named Boris, Jr. -- he'll have some pretty big footsteps to follow in. Scott and the grieving 17+ [Posted in FML issue 1885]