Each time I go into my room to see your portion of the cage empty makes the fact that you are gone more and more real. Queen Jillian has been so tolerant of me squeezing her tight and drowning her with my tears. Although it was obvious she thought you were a total pest, she told me that she misses you, too.
I have vowed to not remember you how you were those last few days. That ferret who was too sick to eat and tired enough to lay in my lap was not my King Larry. My King Larry was the world's most obnoxious terror. You could just look in his eyes and see a glimmer of trouble, then turn around to find him executing that devilish thought he had just been thinking.
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When the room was quiet, it was a sure sign that you were doing something you really weren't supposed to be doing. Whether it was escaping from your cage in the middle of the night to make surprise attacks on my feet (which promptly resulted in me buying a lock for your cage doors) to finding a way out of your playpen to crawl under the couch... nearly giving me a heart attack, thinking you had somehow gotten lost. I am surprised I still have a full head of hair after sharing my life with you for those four great years, but I wouldn't have had it any other way.
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You had the most marvelous dance. The slightest thing would excite you and send you off into the funniest little jumps accompanied by the kind of squeaks that would put a smile on anyone's face. Often you would "dance" so vigorously that you would end up on your back, wiggling around until you got your footing again. The surest way to get you to dance was to bring out that ugly green duck of yours. It was a squeaky toy that you and Frisk would share back in the days... if you would call that sharing.
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You and Frisk were quite the pair. He was the only dog that wasn't totally terrified by your overpowering demeanor. He thought it was the greatest game to chase you around that big couch downstairs, then turn around and let you have a go at chasing him. Mum and I were talking about that during supper, and she made the comment that you and Frisk are probably up there right now chasing each other and getting into all kinds of trouble. Just the thought of you two together again gives me a bit of LES. You two must be having a grand time. :-)
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I got to thinking today that if you would have been anyone else's first ferret, then they might have never wanted to get another! For years I had dreamed of having my very own ferret. I expected one to be a little bit of a pest, but to end up with one who routinely bit me on a daily basis for the first few months certainly was a test of my love for you! Never did my love wane, though. Learning how your mind worked was one of the most challenging, rewarding experiences I have had the privilege to gain. Acquiring your trust and respect made me so proud to be your owner. Though we all know that I was but a slave to you! A very happy slave, though.
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That handsome little face of yours made anyone from small children to full-grown men run in fear. At the slightest sign of weakness you would take the chance to attack. We didn't call you "monster" for no reason, afterall. Of course, you never caused any real injury, as I believe it was just all a game to you. Come to think of it, if I was a ferret I bet I would get a kick out of scaring humans, too!
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Not only did you find ways to get into trouble while you were with me, but even after you passed you caused havoc! Today was the day my sister took your body to the crematory. One problem... animal control (the ones who dispose of the bodies in the freezer) came that morning to pick up the deceased from the clinic and the doc forgot to give them the instructions to
not take the white bag with the yellow ribbon! My sister spent her entire lunch break successfully tracking your body down, which I am forever thankful for.
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I believe I will forever live with the thought that your death may have been preventable. You, being the total pest that you have always been, hid your symptoms
so well. I didn't notice how sick you were until it was too late. Part of me is even a bit mad at you for being so stubborn, but I am even more mad at myself for not seeing any signs. Either way, I promise I won't think too much about the "what ifs". These past four years have been the greatest, and although you were only six years old when you passed, you have taught me so many things that will last a lifetime. Forever your tiny little paw-prints will remain on my heart.
I only ask one favor of you. Please give Jill some guidance from the RB. I don't think I can stand not having a little furry pest to dance circles around me. At the moment Jill is just too sweet to do such ornery things. Go ahead and give her a nudge and make her torment me every once in a while. ;-)
With all my love... thanks for everything,
Your friend.
