Wednesday, April 14, 2010


There are minor miracles everyday and I am asking for one, now. The report from the vet this morning is that the vomitting continued all night. When I asked what he could be still vomitting, I was told it must be from the IV, which he needs to survive.

After a quick shower, I am going to see him and hold him. If my tears were medicinal, he would be so strong and well. It's breaking my heart, knowing what decision is facing us soon.

I can't write anymore.

Just send your leftover miracles to him and help him to be well.

thanks. ferret


  1. The situation is continuing to get worse. Even though he is on pain medicine, I can tell from his eyes and being how exhausted he is. We are all gathering together this aftertoon to tell him goodbye and release him from the torture. He's been a good little fighter, but this battle is too much.

    How can losing something so little hurt so very much?

  2. Darling, my prayers are with you today. If I can do anything, anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask. Stay strong.

  3. This is truly the last thing I wanted to hear. How could such a simple thing cascade, snowball, into such a major catastrophe? You were just doing what any loving mother would do, giving your baby a treat. How my heart aches along side yours. I was so wishing with all my might that things would turn around. I guess some things are bigger than me or you. Although you (and I) will never fully understand how this happened, you must know that he couldn't have been more loved by anyone else. I think I had better stop writing, too. Getting hard to see the screen. Take care, sweet Ferret.

  4. It was so difficult to love on something so precious while at the same time letting go to a peaceful, hurtless place. Our vet was so sweet, compassionate and comforting during the procedure. I never let go of the black-button, searching eyes the whole time I kept telling our little guy how much we love him. His journey gave him peace and our hearts leaden weights.

    Tomorrow is the time for burial by the banana trees out back. My hubby begged for a little time to secure the strength he needs for this chore; tomorrow is soon enough.

    Thank you for the strength you all sent our way.

    More later.

    A very sad, heart-broken Ferret, hopes for a more peaceful day for all us tomorrow,

  5. Ferret,

    I am so very, very sorry. How unselfish you were to let him go. I am so sad for your loss. Sugar Magnolia is right, your little guy was so loved, and he will be so missed. He had great parents!

    Thanks for sharing the pictures along the way.

  6. And I agree with Edith Ann that yours was the most unselfish, kindest act that could be mustered. Take care, Ferret, and may peace come your and your hubby's way.

  7. All my sympathy on your loss Ferret. It is truly hard to lose any family member.

    We had to let Capt. Hook, the dog in my profile pic, go last June.

    Take care.

  8. What an incredibly sad day, today. We clung to each other and our racking sobs mingled with the tears that fell so readily.

    When my husband came in from digging the grave, he buried his face in a bathtowel and we held onto each other for strength. Our heart-wretching sorrow washed over us until the point that our breathing threatened to stop. Our hearts were so painful, from the knife-sliced aches.

    My husband wanted to go to the vet himself, to retrieve our little furry guy, but I insisted that I wanted to go, also.

    We had reached the outskirts of town and through his sobs, he said, "I need some relief. I've never hurt this terrible."

    When someone I adore is so absolutely depressed, despondent and forlorn, there isn't anything I wouldn't try to provide relief. Handing him another tissue, I waited for his request. When he mentioned his desire, I was shocked, but agreeable.

    Giving him driving directions, we explored different locations for his request. At the first location, there was a possiblity, but when we got to the second location we found what could give the life back to my husband's broken heart. There we found a black nosed, black fuzzy, flopped eared, wagging-tail, bundle of affection, compaionship, errand-buddy who would be ours on Monday morning.

    We left the facility, drove to the vet and picked up the sweetest, most lovable piece of our heart that was waiting for us. Tears didn't let up, as the sorrow hung in the cab of the truck. We were almost home, when he turned to me, "Let me see the picture." I pulled out the picture and showed him his new four-legged friend and he took a breath.

    At home, we gathered around to say a final farewell at the gravesite. Raking over the last layer of dirt and putting the wooden cross at the head of the grave ended our gathering.

    All afternoon, the mood was somber in the house and more tears found their ways on our faces. Our hearts will begin the healing process, I suppose, but it will be a long process. Depression mixed with an understanding that our furry love was suffering so much and our decision was made based on love.

    His car trips, his loyality to us, his love of all things edible; his delight in his favorite toys; his grunting when he was brushed and his legacy of love will be eternal.

    Our sweet, Cubby will live forever in our hearts. Our love for him will never end.

    Our new member of the family will arrive Monday and hopeful he is up to the challenging of healing three broken hearts.

  9. truth ferret's daughterFriday, April 16, 2010 at 8:06:00 PM CDT

    okay i'm typing in lower case because i'm afraid to push the wrong buttons on this fancy computer (i just did a while ago and it deleted my post...ugh!). Five years ago i had an unbelievably loveable mutt named Princess. she was a rescue and i nursed her back to good health and a shinier coat. she was my companion throughout an abusive relationship and when she got pregnant i was so excited because i was going to have puppies. she managed to have six puppies but only three survived. i helped feed them and make sure princess was comfortable as she recovered. soon i fell in love with one of the surviving three. he was the fattest rollie polliest puppy i had ever seen. i nicknamed him "tubby" because of his rounded features. his all black hair changed and he began to look more like his mother. because my spouse wouldn't let me keep him i knew the next best place for him was with my parents. this is the dog i am now mourning the loss of. he helped me get through the grief of losing princess and had become my father's travel companion and my mother's retirement buddy. my own son fell in love with him and would giggle when cubby's fur tickled his nose. i don't know what i am going to miss most about him. his big black button nose or his searching brown eyes. i know one thing...that dog left paw prints on my aching, broken heart.

  10. Believe it or not, sweet Ferret's daughter, that wonderful pup left paw prints on aching hearts that had never even seen him, except in pictures. I can tell you that through your words and your mother's words, that sweet pooch has come alive and will ALWAYS live in the written word, and in the hearts that enveloped the love both given to that pup and the love returned by him a thousand fold. Those hearts now mourn with yours and your mother's and your father's. Our hearts are heavy also, but hopeful that the new doggie will heal the hurt and will begin love and life anew for you and your family.

    Ferret: is the new pup a rescue, from a shelter? I surmise from your writing that he is a male - how big is he? I am so glad for this surprise twist ending. I know that a lot of people want a replacement companion soon after, and that some do this on a "rebound" emotion. But I will trust you and your husband's instincts; I know that this pup will be lucky to dwell in your loving home, and eventually in your hearts. He will shine with his own personality, and you will enjoy learning new quirks, new "grunts", new barks, and new ways of loving. He will help your days become brighter, and I am sure your sweet Cubby will be smiling down on all of you, knowing your heavy heart will be lifted, if ever so slowly, and hoping that you know you will see him beyond that Rainbow Bridge once again. Of that, I am sure.

    Who knows? The newest member of the family may like banana, too. Stranger things have happened. And your sweet grandlove will likely charm the new addition just as he did the previous one. And love and life will begin anew.