Gabby’s Getting Old
Last night Gabby wasn’t feeling well at all. 
She’s getting to be a little old lady. She’s always been a bit of a hands-off ferret, more like a cat than a dog. She likes being near you on her terms. This makes it a little frustrating when you’re trying to comfort her and all it does is make her uncomfortable.
Eric went to give Gabby her nighttime baby food last night and she was like a wet noodle. We suspect it was some low blood sugar issue, though she wasn’t drooling. She was just floppy. She licked baby food off my finger and took some Nutri-Cal fairly happily. Then she curled up in one of the little heart-shaped sleep sacks we got from Fantasy Ferrets (Alicia Drakiotes).
This morning Gabby woke me when she climbed up on the bed. She must have felt well enough to climb up and walk on me. She dug around furiously by my feet and went to sleep. Just a few minutes ago, Eric gave her baby food again, which she lapped up on her own, licking the bowl clean.
I know Gabby can’t be with us much longer. I think I’m all right with that. She’s had a good life. She’s the only ferret we ever had who did not have surgery for one reason or another (tooth extraction aside). And she’s the last one.
I love ferrets. They’re exuberant and energetic, persistent and adorable. But I have to take a break. I need some time away from the sad part of having ferrets — losing them. They’re such shining stars that when they die, the world goes dark. I’m still not over losing Balthazar in 2001. Or Koosh in December of 2003. If I close my eyes and think of them, I can remember the feel of their fur. I can remember the sparkle in their eyes. The bond I had with each one.
Maybe what I need is time to grieve.
It’s hard to get over the death of a pet. To me they are family. Ferrets are so small that it is easy to get just one more. I’ve never had more than 7 or 8 at one time. I usually have 4 or 5. It seems there is always a sick one or one that is at the end of his life. It’s very sad and hard on your heart. It’s no wonder you need a break.
We just moved into a house and have a room set up for the ferrets in the basement. Every day the kids and I let them out to run around. They have a blast bouncing and chasing each other. They always make me smile.
Kylie was my first in 1996 after my dog died. We were very close and his death was the hardest. We laid on the floor together and I told him it was OK to go. That night we had a treat party and the next day he left me.