i love you, frisky

Thursday, Feb. 14, 2008 | 8:26 PM

long story short, frisky's kidneys failed him. the vet said that he wasn't going to get better, so trying to do something about it would be futile. his little body had just given up. this was told to me on monday. i wasn't ready to let go then, so i took him home rather than having him put to sleep.

i kept him in my room. i gave him a blanket, and water, and wet food that i mixed up for him. i spent a lot of time holding him. i watched, over the last three days, as he deteriorated more and more. i considered the idea of euthanasia, but couldn't bring myself to do it.

he seemed like he wanted to live. he still drank and ate, even thought it clearly upset his stomach. the vet said he was nauseous. every time he ate, he began grinding his teeth, which is what ferrets do when their stomachs are bothering them. he tried to walk when he couldn't, and he cuddled up in his blanket. when i held him and petted him, he would yawn a lot like ferrets always do.

but he was so skinny. i could feel every bone in his body. he was incredibly weak. he had no interest in any form of play. he just laid there, with his eyes open, staring out. he had no quality of life.

late last night, i noticed him having spasms all over his body. i picked him up and held him. he was completely limp. i held him for a long time. i thought maybe it was time, but it wasn't. his muscles eventually calmed, and he laid still. i wanted to hold him until he went, but i didn't know how much longer it would be.

when i got up today, he was laying awkwardly in his own poop, and was wet with pee. he was no longer even trying to pull himself away from it and keep out of it. i picked him up and laid on the couch with him laying on me. he was completely limp again. he sighed a lot. i felt so bad.

i had done some reading online, and i read that ferrets really try to hang on to life. i hated seeing him in this state, i wanted him to just let go.

"i love you, frisky," i would say, "it's ok to let go, frisky."

he began to spasm again. i knew the time was soon, but i didn't know how soon. what i really didn't want, was for him to die alone, laying on the floor. i wanted to be holding him.

it was quite possibly the hardest decision of my life. i decided that i should take him to the vet and help him let go. it was awful and depressing seeing him like this, and i couldn't stand it anymore. i didn't want him to keep having to go through it. and i wanted to make sure i was there when he went.

so my dad and i took him to the vet today. they took us into a room, where i sat and held frisky against me. my dad filled out paperwork as i began to cry. the lady asked if i wanted to be "present during the procedure." i nodded. then she explained how it would go down.

after some waiting, another lady came in to take him and put a catheter in him. she was to then bring him back where "the procedure" would be done.

after some more waiting, she came in and told me that he was so dehydrated that his veins were too tiny and they couldn't get the catheter in. they had tried three times, and felt bad poking at him so much. she said that she could give him a different shot, which takes longer to work, and then bring him in for me to hold him while he went. i agreed to this.

after some more waiting, she came in, holding frisky in a blanket. she listened to his heart, and then said it would be a few minutes, and she would come back then. i held him and petted his little head, trying not to cry so hard that i would shake him.

just after the vet left, my dad's phone rang. he left the room to answer it. i was glad. i wanted to be alone with frisky.

after he left, i said, "you're a good boy frisky. you're a good ferret. i love you frisky."

i couldn't tell if he was breathing or not. i didn't know the moment he went. i kissed his little head, not knowing if he felt it. he probably didn't. he was probably completely out of it, if still alive.

the vet came back in. she asked, "is he still breathing?"

"i can't tell."

she listened to his heart again. "i don't hear a heartbeat. i'm sorry. frisky has passed."

it was my first time of euthanasia, but wasn't the first time i'd held a dying animal. i usually can tell, almost "feel" it when they go. i wasn't yet convinced that he was completely gone. she asked me if i wanted to hold him for a few more minutes. i nodded.

after she left, i gently laid him out on the blanket on the table. it was then i could tell, that yes, he was dead. his eyes were half open, and the life in them was gone. no matter what anyone says, i do believe that animals have souls. you can see it in their eyes and you can feel it. or, i can, anyway.

after i made this realization, i began to cry much harder. the vet came back in, and took him to put him in a "frisky sized box," as she called it. she told me that i could wait in the room, or go out to where my dad was. i attempted to wipe off my face with some tissues, and then went out to wait with my dad.

the vet came out, carrying a box shaped similar to a casket. we then left.

at the moment, this box is still sitting on my desk here next to my computer. i am still kinda in shock from the experience. it still hasn't fully sunk in that frisky is no longer in this world.

oh, frisky, i am so sorry. i love you so much. i am so, so sorry. you're my little baby, my little baby boy. my little frisky. i love you, frisky.

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