Dear Kyle,
I miss your playfulness and watching you race around the house with Digger. I miss finding you in places where you don’t belong, like the furnace room or in the closet. I miss knowing that you were hiding from me under the couch (you were a smart ferret).
I always thought of you as a true individualist and somewhat of a loner. You were never the kind of ferret who wanted to be hugged and cuddled and I tried to respect that.
I hope that you had a good time at the last ferret meeting. I was pretty certain it was going to be the last Christmas you would get to go, so I wanted to make sure I got you there. Derek said I waited to long to put you to sleep and now I realize he was probably right. You were so weak and thin but I kept hoping for a miracle. I felt so sorry for you when I had to give you your medicine and try to feed you. I am sure it was an ordeal for you but I thought you could recover and be the wild surfer dude ferret I knew you were inside.
It tore me up when I woke up Sunday morning and saw how weak you were and how you could hardly move and how cold you were. You were so thin, I was sure you had lost even more weight. I wanted you to be the strong, healthy hell-raising ferret I knew and loved.
I hope you have found Earl and Tim by now. I know that maybe Earl was not your favorite ferret but I hope you can get along with him now.
Kyle, I hope you like this tribute. I tried not to make it too mushy for you. I miss you and hope to see you and the other ferrets again soon.
Missing you,
| Kyle |
| 1, Jan 2006 |
| Robin Cornell |