I came home today and she could hardly move. I took her to the vet again. He said that the probable possibility was kidney failure. It was the only explanation that made sense, considering she’d had such a healthy appearance all along, and then went so abruptly downhill. But even that sort of baffled him. Kidney issues rarely show up in such a young ferret. He said he’d not seen a ferret that sick. And that there was nothing he could do. They could keep her, give her IV fluids, force feed her… Do bloodwork to verify what was wrong… But ferrets don’t have that much blood in the first place. And he didn’t think she would come through anyway. She would be miserable through all of it. Only to find out later that we’d have to euthanise her anyway…

So I did the only thing I could.

I can’t help but look at the situation. There was a point in time where she was the only reason I bothered to get out of bed. I had to feed her and take care of her and play with her. If I hadn’t had such responsibilities and priviledges, I wouldn’t have bothered to get up. I was depressed, sad, and she was what kept me going. She was there for me when I needed her. She kept me company on my miserable drive home from Florida. She helped me through the inital times at home, until things were settled, my life was ok, and I was happy again. Then she let go. I honestly can’t help but wonder if she just knew, in her own little ferret way, how important she was to me, and held on until she knew she didn’t need to anymore. Something hadn’t been right with her for a while.

It’s a kind of silly notion, I suppose. But I couldn’t help but let it cross my mind.

I love her dearly and will miss her terribly.

She meant the world to me and will never be forgotten.