Arriving at the Humane Society, I was told that some people had brought him in claiming that he was a stray. Even so, they knew his name, that he had been housed outside, and the street that he lived on.

After filling out the paper work, they brought Snickers out to me. A big, beautiful, chocolate sable boy. The name fit him perfectly. His coloring looked just like a snickers candy bar. His head was all fuzzy, he had on his winter coat. I guess he was glad for that, being housed outside and all. Surprisely, he looked in pretty good shape. But I did notice what I thought were scabs on his face, nose and ears.I signed the papers and we were on our way home. I left him out to play, and gave him some good warm food. He was a very good natured boy, probably about 2 years old. I picked him up to get a better look at the scabs on his face. Wait a minute-these aren't scabs, these are deer ticks! 3 layers of them to be exact. All over his beautiful face, his nose, his delicate little ears. I called the vet and took him right in. We picked deer ticks off of that poor soul for over an hour, and still could'nt get them all. So Frontline was applied to to rest. Dr Gividen checked him over, and said that other than the deer ticks, he was in pretty good shape. Watch out for Lyme disease, they told me. Thankfully, that was something that he never got.

Home again, and you were settling in. Such a good boy, very happy, and quite lovable. I was hit hard fast. I knew you couldn't stay with me. I had to take you to the shelter. The Christmas meeting was in a week and a half. I was to take you along then and surrender you. That was the deal, Daddy said. As long as you take them to the shelter, you can continue picking them up from the Humane Society. I guess that I had 7 other ferrets at the time, so I didn't push the issue of asking if we could keep you. A week and a half. How was I going to let you go? We bonded more each day. I fell in love with you.

The days went by quickly-December 17 came way to fast. I brought you out that morning for your final playtime with Ariana and I. Ariana was just a little girl then. She loved you to. 2 o'clock. It was time to go to the meeting and give you up. How was I going to do this? Such is the life of a rescuer. Daddy was there. He knew how much we loved you. Secretly, he loved you too, But he wasn't going to admit it. Time to go. I put you in the carrier. I said goodbye to Daddy. Ariana was crying, I was crying, but still I headed out the door. Oh, go put him back in his room! What, I said. Go put him back in his room! But no more ferrets!. Daddy was to soft-hearted! Snickers had stolen Daddy's heart too. I was so happy!! Snickers was mine! I still went to the meeting, but my Snicky stayed here at home.

Snickers spent 5 wonderful years with me. He would sleep under my side of the bed on an old flannel jacket that I had put there for him. He came out every morning for his a/d and chicken baby food. I loved him dearly. Snickers was never sick until the final few days when he developed congestive heart failure.It was getting hard for him to breathe. He couldn't eat and was having trouble walking. I couldn't let you suffer, so I helped you to the bridge. You took your last breath in my arms.

Thank you, Snickers for chosing to spend your life with me. Thank you for the very sweet kiss, just before you left for the bridge. Things won't be the same here without you. You were a very special boy, and I loved you dearly. I look forward to one day meeting you at the bridge. I hope you had your ferret family waiting for you when you crossed over. I love you, Snicky.

If tears could have saved you, you would have lived forever.

12-17-01 to 1-26-06

When I sat down on the sofa with Dusty, Diesel followed us pancaking under the coffee table, staring at me, silently asking if he could join us. I scooped him up as well and the two ferrets laid together the bridges of their faces touching, laying in a heart shape on my lap. A moment so sad, yet so touching with the realization of the bond the two ferrets shared. Diamond the cat bid her farewell by hopping up and perching behind us on the sofa, reaching a lone paw down to touch Dusty's head and say goodbye. The cats love these ferrets. They feel it too.

Although I curled him up in a comfy sleep sack, he wriggles out of it just far enough for his face to rest on my chest as if he just had to be touching some part of me. We talked about his life, the rainbow bridge and that it's ok to go, that he'll feel better on the other side, yet still he hangs on. As hard as it is to watch them go, I'm grateful that I'm here for them. I feel the most important thing I can do for my animal companions is to help them cross over. To be here for them in their final hours. No one should pass alone. It must be important to them too as they always call to me if I'm not home to let me know I'm needed. They let me know when their time is coming. An ominous piece of the gift of the ability to communicate with animals without a doubt, but this connection is bound by our love for each other in life......and in passing. It runs full circle as naturally as life itself and I have to remind myself not to curse it sometimes,....to curse the sadness,....not the gift.

My Dusty, aka Dustbuster with the most beautiful fangaroos you've ever seen. My Dusty who tagged along on my birthday Gettysburg trip because he just had a tooth pulled and he needed hand feedings. Hilites of the day included a poo in National Cemetery (when guy has to go, a guy has to go....and yes we cleaned it up), sleeping quietly in the sack we used to sneak him into Friendly's where we had lunch. He backpacked along with us through the battlefields enjoying the fresh air and lavishing the attention he got as he was passed from one person to the next.

My Dusty who taught Zach at age 7, a valuable lesson in tormenting animals. Zach knew the kind of reaction Dusty had to loud squeak toys, yet he annoyed the ferret anyway . One Saturday, when I was out of the room I heard the squeak toy and Zach laughing hysterically at Dusty's frantic reaction. Dusty reacted by climbing up his leg and biting him hard in the cheek. The bite was not that bad and I didn't coddle him. He cried that Dusty wasn't his friend anymore. I explained to him why Dusty reacted the way he did and that it wasn't his fault. It was a couple of weeks before Zach would accept him as his "friend" again but he learned that it wasn't Dusty's fault. Dusty taught him a valuable lesson in responsibility for our actions and treatment of animals. I shed a tear the day he walked around the corner from the ferret room, Dusty in his arms saying "Look Kim, Dusty's my friend again." He hugged Dusty close and apologized to him. He understood.

As I was dealing with Dusty's passing, I found another adrenal kid, one of the rescues, Gizmo, had passed away in his cage. No symptoms of going down hill, just gone. Peaceful crossings sweet babies.
Mommy loves you.