My little buddy Phred crossed the Rainbow Bridge about 9:30 p.m. today. He was a MF ferret and was born (from best I could figure) around Christmas, 1993. Phred was my first ferret. After him, I got Timon and Hobbes. Phred was pretty special. He was so very gentle. He was a beautiful sable with a splash of cinnamon on his back. Except for nipping me on the nose when he was a kit, Phred has never bitten anyone. He was very tolerant with everyone who handled handling him. This made him very popular with the special needs (severely disabled) students at the high school I work at. Phred was the subject of a little poem I that was published here. It was about a "flock of fuzzie ferrets frolicking on the floor." Phred like to snuggle up to me. He was one of those rare "lap ferrets." I will always remember when he was a kit, I caught him dragging a potato about three times his size to his hidey place under my bed. I will always remember how he would go running from the vacuum cleaner, then screw up his courage and attack it. I will always remember coming home, him periscoping, fleeing when he saw me, then finding my bathroom in shambles. Phred has been sick for about the last year. Phred died in my arms. I am grateful that he did not die alone. I am grateful that I got to take care of him for those last few minutes. I prepared a box for him with some food, ferretone, a toy ball and bell, lined with flannel (his favorite). I have written to many people who lost their fuzzies, telling them that I like to think that when a ferret leaves us, there is a new fuzzie for a baby angel to play with. I will be setting up a page on my web site with some picture of him. Joe Timon: "Dad, why are you crying." Hobbes: "Where s Phred, I want to wrestle." [Posted in FML issue 2766]