Requiescat in Pace, Bruce

Subject: Our Ferret "Bruce".
Camera: Nikon D7000.
Location: The Vet.
Date Taken: 06/26/12.
Comment: A few months ago, our ferret, Bruce, started showing signs of illness. He became very lethargic, seemed to have difficulty using his back legs, and began to show signs of neurological issues. Despite our best efforts to diagnose his illness and make his life as comfortable as possible, his health slowly worsened over the following months.

Last week, we took Bruce to our old vet (an hour away). She informed us that things did not look good for him, but that she would do several tests in an attempt to get a diagnosis. We were somewhat floored by the bill, but we agreed that we couldn't come all this way without finding out what was wrong, and to take whatever chance we could to save him.

We were given a packet on euthanasia, and I requested some extra time with him. He had a blanket with a warming machine attached to it, so that his body temperature would be regulated. Not knowing if this would be the last time we'd see him, we held him, and hugged him, and said our goodbyes as best as we could without distressing him. I took a few photos of him, the one you see above being what I'd imagine is the most dignified portrait.

The day after the vet visit, we were back in the area, preparing to pick Bruce up. I called the vet, and they told me that his blood was very thick, and that they believed that was preventing his brain from getting enough oxygen, which they theorized could be contributing to his neurological symptoms. They were able to thin out his blood a bit, and he was doing somewhat better. Even so, they requested keeping him another day for monitoring.

Another day later, I got a phone call alerting me that Bruce's neurological symptoms worsened greatly since we were there, and that he was suffering. I just knew by the tone of her voice that it was that time; the time that all pet owners dread subconsciously from the moment they first meet eyes with their new friend.

I asked if we should drive down immediately, if it would help Bruce to have us there. I would have done anything it took to make this moment easier for him. She informed me that she believed that it would make no difference to Bruce, as she believed he would have difficulty determining any difference between people present. I knew at that moment that I couldn't force him to wait, to suffer for an hour for us to come down there and watch as they did what had to be done. I wasn't going to do that for my sake; this moment was about doing what was best for him.

I feel that the hardest part about making the decision to euthanize an animal, is the fact that you can't warn them; you can't tell them what's coming. You take them to the vet, like so many times before, and you feel intensely like you're stabbing them in the back. It's made worse when the animal is one that seems so blissfully unaware, or even (in the case of many dogs) happy to be going somewhere with you.

For all of those people out there that have pets, hold them a little closer the next time you see them; spend a little more time with them than you have been lately. You never know when the time may come where you won't be able to anymore. This applies to all of your human companions as well.

While my family had lived with pets before, Bruce was in many ways my first real pet, in the sense that I chose him personally. It's a different feeling. Rest in peace, my friend; my brother.


P.S. As for Waffle, he's getting doubled-up on, in terms of love and attention; perhaps even to the point of annoyance. I hope he's prepared.