You were 8, very old for a ferret. I remember you played that morning with Ceyanne in the playpen. 2 hours later, after putting you back in your cage, Ceyanne had jumped out, and was curled on the the floor, shaking. I put her in the playpen, and wanted to put you there to, and I moved away the blankets, your eyes were half open, I thought you were awake. I touched you and you were cold. I cried. You were no longer there. Rick picked you up out of the cage, and buried you in your favorite hammock in the backyard. You were a healthy, but old boy, and sweet. I just hope you didn’t die painfully. Ceyanne and I miss you so much,and I cry very time I hold Ceyanne. She misses you and so do I. Meet you at the Rainbow Bridge big boy.
| K. Dale |