Post by Deleted on Mar 12, 2015 20:46:41 GMT -5
I got Tom from the Ark a year ago, he'd been passed from pillar to post as a family pet with his brother Jerry and had been in the RSPCA a year before I met him. He'd spent most of his life in the Ark's care between owners, and I never got to meet Jerry as he'd passed away from cancer a week before I met Tom. I was never meant to get a ferret, I'd begged my mum so much for one and asked if we could go to the Ark just to have a look at the ferrets (I'd never actually seen or held one in real life before).
As we went from pen to pen, no ferrets popped their heads out of their hutches. Except Tom, who was in a large pen by himself. A worker explained to us that Tom was extremely depressed due to Jerry's death, and despite their attempts to pair him with another ferret to make him feel better, Tom would only attack them. My mum fell in love with Tom and his story, which is why she allowed me to adopt him. He lived in my room and was a spoilt little ferret, and much loved too. 6 months into owning him, I developed a severe allergic reaction to him (my skin came up in hives around my face and neck - oddly not anywhere else on my body). Around this time, Tom also became sick. He was lethargic and would stare into space, and occasionally kept scratching at the roof of his mouth. Little did I know, he'd developed insulinoma.
Tom was relocated downstairs in a spare room, and for a month or two, he barely got any attention as we waited for my allergies to calm down. When they eventually did, I noticed how Tom's fur was starting to disappear on his tail and how light he felt. We took him to the vet and they said he had a high white blood cell count and sent us on our way, giving Tom an anti-nausea shot and something to increase his appetite. I changed Tom to a raw diet once I diagnosed him myself with Insulinoma in hope I could get it under control until my mum could afford for him to go on medication.
There were good days and bad days, especially in the next few months when my allergies were all over the place. It became increasingly difficult to cater to Tom's needs and take care of him, we even considered giving him back to the Ark but we knew he didn't have many months left. He deserved to die in a nice warm home, peacefully and loved rather than in a lonely cold outside pen in a shelter. We thought we would attempt to pair him with another ferret in hope he would enjoy some constant company, but Tom had little interest in the ferrets we took him to meet at the Ark, and would bite them and scare them off. Tom's weight continued to drop and he also lost more fur on his tail, and the fur on his body was thinning. I knew he was adrenal and tried to explain this to my mum, saying he needed to see a vet but money was so tight at the time.
We took him a few times to have bloods and it was always the same story - high white blood cell count, anti-nausea shot, sent us on our way. In the last week of Tom's life, he weighed no more than 600g. He'd stopped eating and drinking. We made an appointment with the vet, and he said the usual. I desperately tried to get him to listen to me, but he only said "We can open him up and see what's going on." I refused, Tom was too sick and too old to go through something like that. Furious, I left and we made another appointment with a different vet for Saturday. I tried to get any food and water I could into Tom, from kitten kibble to raw egg. He'd take pieces of it but eventually lose interest and stop trying altogether.
Every day I got worried I'd go downstairs and find him dead, I didn't want him to suffer like this. I went downstairs today and thought he'd passed, but it was actually his body just shutting down - his organs were failing him, and he was slowly dying. In tears, I called my mum and explained that he needed an emergency appointment to be put to sleep, and we took him to the vet a few hours later. Tom was my first ferret, and he's given me a great experience and taught me so much: he taught me that when you make a commitment to an animal, you never give up, even if you become allergic or things get tough and start to fall apart, you stay strong for that animal regardless and do everything you can to keep them safe, happy, and healthy.
I will learn from the mistakes I made with Tom if I choose to adopt another ferret. Tom is with his brother Jerry again, happily playing and dooking and causing havoc.
All happy and healthy, the way he should be! I wish I'd known him in his early life. He made it to the ripe old age of 9!
The vet who put him to sleep was lovely, and very kind. She explain to us Tom had likely developed renal failure and neurological problems in his last few days (he kept walking in circles and falling over, always wanting to turn anti-clockwise.)
As we went from pen to pen, no ferrets popped their heads out of their hutches. Except Tom, who was in a large pen by himself. A worker explained to us that Tom was extremely depressed due to Jerry's death, and despite their attempts to pair him with another ferret to make him feel better, Tom would only attack them. My mum fell in love with Tom and his story, which is why she allowed me to adopt him. He lived in my room and was a spoilt little ferret, and much loved too. 6 months into owning him, I developed a severe allergic reaction to him (my skin came up in hives around my face and neck - oddly not anywhere else on my body). Around this time, Tom also became sick. He was lethargic and would stare into space, and occasionally kept scratching at the roof of his mouth. Little did I know, he'd developed insulinoma.
Tom was relocated downstairs in a spare room, and for a month or two, he barely got any attention as we waited for my allergies to calm down. When they eventually did, I noticed how Tom's fur was starting to disappear on his tail and how light he felt. We took him to the vet and they said he had a high white blood cell count and sent us on our way, giving Tom an anti-nausea shot and something to increase his appetite. I changed Tom to a raw diet once I diagnosed him myself with Insulinoma in hope I could get it under control until my mum could afford for him to go on medication.
There were good days and bad days, especially in the next few months when my allergies were all over the place. It became increasingly difficult to cater to Tom's needs and take care of him, we even considered giving him back to the Ark but we knew he didn't have many months left. He deserved to die in a nice warm home, peacefully and loved rather than in a lonely cold outside pen in a shelter. We thought we would attempt to pair him with another ferret in hope he would enjoy some constant company, but Tom had little interest in the ferrets we took him to meet at the Ark, and would bite them and scare them off. Tom's weight continued to drop and he also lost more fur on his tail, and the fur on his body was thinning. I knew he was adrenal and tried to explain this to my mum, saying he needed to see a vet but money was so tight at the time.
We took him a few times to have bloods and it was always the same story - high white blood cell count, anti-nausea shot, sent us on our way. In the last week of Tom's life, he weighed no more than 600g. He'd stopped eating and drinking. We made an appointment with the vet, and he said the usual. I desperately tried to get him to listen to me, but he only said "We can open him up and see what's going on." I refused, Tom was too sick and too old to go through something like that. Furious, I left and we made another appointment with a different vet for Saturday. I tried to get any food and water I could into Tom, from kitten kibble to raw egg. He'd take pieces of it but eventually lose interest and stop trying altogether.
Every day I got worried I'd go downstairs and find him dead, I didn't want him to suffer like this. I went downstairs today and thought he'd passed, but it was actually his body just shutting down - his organs were failing him, and he was slowly dying. In tears, I called my mum and explained that he needed an emergency appointment to be put to sleep, and we took him to the vet a few hours later. Tom was my first ferret, and he's given me a great experience and taught me so much: he taught me that when you make a commitment to an animal, you never give up, even if you become allergic or things get tough and start to fall apart, you stay strong for that animal regardless and do everything you can to keep them safe, happy, and healthy.
I will learn from the mistakes I made with Tom if I choose to adopt another ferret. Tom is with his brother Jerry again, happily playing and dooking and causing havoc.
All happy and healthy, the way he should be! I wish I'd known him in his early life. He made it to the ripe old age of 9! The vet who put him to sleep was lovely, and very kind. She explain to us Tom had likely developed renal failure and neurological problems in his last few days (he kept walking in circles and falling over, always wanting to turn anti-clockwise.)
