Two of my ferrets were having a hard time adjusting to the Daylight Savings Time schedule. They had been out 4 times for several hours each time but were wide awake at 11:45pm. I had already crawled into bed but wasn't asleep. I relinquished to their demands to be let out again. I had just sat down on the sofa to read when I heard a ferret scream extremely loudly twice. I could hear struggling. I ran into the hallway. Captain was laying there, not moving, and a board was on top of him. I picked up the board. He was motionless but awake. I carefully picked him up and held him next to me for several minutes. He didn't move - which was totally unlike Captain. I put him on the floor to observe him. The only thing he moved was his eyelids. I slowly rolled him over. He was a limp rag. I held him for a few more minutes. There was no movement. I remember a friend telling me about the need to get steroids into a ferret immediately after an accident to have the best possible outcome. I ran to the bedroom and put him on the bed while I dressed. When he got the dry heaves, the only movement was in response to the vomiting. Based on the noise I had heard, I envisioned that the board had trapped him against the wall and he had struggled to free himself. I feared his back was broken. I called the emergency clinic to tell them I would be there in about 45 minutes. I carefully put Captain in a small carrier and left, grabbing some tissues as I walked out the door. It was a long time to think about how Captain was my most loving, affectionate, and human-oriented ferret (I can't use the word "favorite" for fear of a mutiny here). He was always underfoot begging for attention. I have seen two paraplegic ferrets and didn't like the thought of Captain being like them. Guilt weighed heavily on my mind for leaving the board out after I was done with it. The tech immediately took Captain to the back for the vet to examine. By this time Captain was lifting up his head. The tech at the front desk took the information about the accident and relayed it to the vet. I was not able to focus on anything during the wait . After what seemed like an eternity, we were called into an exam room "so the doctor can tell you what she found." I tried to hold back the tears. Several tense minutes later, the doctor came in with Captain. He was alertly sitting on the edge of the hammock wondering what all the attention was about. The vet said she could find absolutely nothing wrong with him. I lost it at that point. It seems Captain was scared almost to death by the featherweight fiberboard falling on him (it literally weighs just a couple of ounces). He had developed legs o' Jello and simply couldn't walk (I had that same thing happen once when I was almost killed in a car accident so I knew what he was experiencing). I gently picked up Captain and hugged him. But he wanted no part of that. He was someplace new and that meant that he needed to explore.... [FW] [Posted in FML issue 2638]