Hildy died on January
9, 2001. She spent the end of her life at a ferret shelter because her previous owner lost interest in her when she developed some medical needs. At the shelter, her needs were met and she was
loved more than words can say. This is her story.A few years ago, a young man contacted me because his ferret was loosing "its" hair. After talking to him for awhile, I told him it sounded as
if the ferret had adrenal tumors. I explained that these are fairly common and that the options are surgery to remove the tumor which usually has good results, or allowing the tumor to remain which
would shorten the ferret's life expectancy by a bit but which would also result in a bald ferret. I explained that, based on my experiences, the baldness does not seem to bother the ferrets, and that
other ferrets don't treat the bald ferret any differently. Neither of these options thrilled the young man, who was adamant that he did not want a bald ferret, but who was also reluctant to spend money
on surgery, especially after I told him what the "ballpark" for the surgery was, and that it came with no guarantees. After a few more phone calls he agreed to take both his ferrets to a local
vet, to "find out about his options".
I had a suspicion that he would not spend money on this ferret, and I called the vet to give a warning that there was a good chance the ferret would be left at the
clinic. I told them I was prepared to take responsibility for her (I was actually hoping that both would be left, but it was not to be). My suspicion was correct and after getting a general
health report over the phone, I changed the ferret's name from an ugly, insulting one to Hildy and approved surgery to remove an adrenal tumor. All this before actually having seen Hildy.
Hildy's
surgery went well and she was able to come to her new home and met the other shelter residents. She adapted well to shelter life, and was soon right at home. Her age made her a poor candidate for
adoption, and during her recuperation she had worked her way so far into my heart that I couldn't imagine giving her up anyway. Over the next year, Hildy endeared herself to everyone she met, charming
them with her sweet temperament and her tendency to get her hind legs going faster than her front legs, resulting in her going "ass over teakettle".
A few months after leaving Hildy, her former owner
contacted me again. Instead of asking how she was, he wanted to know if I had a young ferret available for adoption. I told him no. About six months later, he called again. This time
he wanted to "give" me his ferret. It seemed this ferret was six years old, blind, and didn't play with Hildy's replacement. I arranged to meet him at a local pet supply store where it came
out that this ferret (now Mischa) was being surrendered because the owner had been offered another young ferret and that he only wanted two.
Shortly after Mischa arrived, Hildy developed a swelling in her
abdomen, which resulted in a spleenectomy in September of 2000. At that time, it was discovered that Hildy had cancer, which was in her liver. The vet gave her "a few" months. Hildy
recovered from her surgery, and seemed more comfortable with the enlarged spleen gone. She succumbed to her cancer on January 9, 2001.
People frequently ask me why I shelter ferrets.
They point out that by finding homes for the young, healthy, good-tempered ones, I wind up paying for all the old, sick, and "mean" ones. They mean well when they point out that if I didn't take care
of so many "unwanted" ferrets, even short term, I wouldn't have to work so many hours. I respond that animals like Hildy and Mischa come to this shelter because of the all too common idea that animals
are disposable and can easily be replaced when they become old or sick or the novelty wears off. Many of the ferrets who have passed through these doors were victims of this mentality. Ours is a
throwaway society, were newer is better, and sadly the lucky animals are the ones that are surrendered to shelters. Many more are simply "set free" to fend for themselves or sold at flea markets and
rummage sales with no questions asked.
But what seems hardest for these well meaning people to see is that although Hildy cost me a fair amount, she gave so much love in return that my life is
better for having her in it. It is her former owner I feel sorry for-he missed out on the beauty of Hildy's last years, as he is missing out on Mischa's, and I am sure he will miss out on those of his
current (I assume) ferrets. I hope that when he is old and sick, he has a place to spend his last years, after all, the throw away mentality isn't always limited to "belongings".
