The jury’s out and deadlocked. I have not decided yet if the shorter lives of our pets, our loves, are a blessing or a curse. Continuing grief makes it impossible for me to fairly consider this question.

It’s just so amazing to me on so many levels that such close relationships can cross that specie line.

We love them so much, they become such a part of our lives, there’s such mutual dependence, and losing them is such trauma. Our pets love us unconditionally, it is enough for them just to be with us, they’re ecstatic for our attention. We have such exquisite pleasure with them, they teach us so much, it’s such a gift to have them, they give us their whole lives. Such a great privilege to have and care for them.

But they leave us. It’s part of existence, it’s the way it is, when they leave us it teaches us such survival, and then gives us a chance to know another love. Fortunately they all have unique personalities. Can I survive?

So which is it? Is this just another one of nature’s cruel jokes? Life with them is so wonderful, their death and without them so dark, so empty, such desolation. I’m tying hard to keep my balance.

I just lost my ferret. I just lost my ferret. DID YOU HEAR..... I just lost my ferret. My God, what to do.

I just lost my ferret.... cancer, had to euthanize her. She gave her life and love to me for 6 yrs, 8 mos, 8 days. Her name is Weasel... sort of a perfect name for a ferret. She was on meds and well, until her last 2 days. Sort of a good way to go... no long-suffering. She was a special ferret. Everyone who knew ferrets recognized it. Very loving with unique endearing behaviors. But still...... even a week away..... I’m inconsolable.. it’s getting worse.

I’ve been so destroyed each time my closest loves have gone on... yet I eventually found another and that next one hasn’t diminished in any way the love or the place in my heart those others have held. Hard to believe I have so much room in my heart for another/others when grieving so hard for the one who went on.

How can your heart break so bad so much. How can you fathom or come to grips with the depths of grieving, particularly when you know you created it yourself by giving to, and loving an animal who you accepted yourself into your life. How can you do this over and over? It’s at this time you wonder if it’s all worth it... even life itself.

Me? ..... I’m 4 dogs, 1 cat, 1 guinea pig, and 2 ferrets old. I still share life with one of those dogs.

It started with Penney. I was an adult, married with children, before I found that some of those empty places in my heart were reserved for a pet.

Pet, HAH! Pet? ..... a word that does no justice at all to what our animal loves are. They’re so much greater than pets.

Oh, when the kids were growing up, we had a guinea pig – Jingles - for she came to us at Christmas. Exceptional pet and exceptional guinea pig. We all loved her. Jingles had the run of the house and was (98%) litter box trained. She preferred her box be placed in my oldest daughters room. Jingles went camping with us and my kids took her on endless trips to school and to friends. When traveling/camping, in restaurants we would sneak salad stuff and plate garnishes into pockets for the guinea pig. Jingles was 7+ when she died. Very old for a guinea pig.

Growing up the kids also had their own pets; hamsters, gerbils, rats, mice, snakes, etc.

But Penney....... Oh Penney, Penney was a basset hound and was a gift from my wife. Penelope was her registered name. My 4 kids were children. Penney significantly raised and matured all of us. She went with us on all the family outings, camping trips, etc. We all found more love in that dog then can ever be put into words. The kids grew up with that dog, saw her have puppies, loved and played, and after a time she and I were alone together. I was more dependant on our mutual love than ever. Then it was her time. Cried for weeks, couldn’t go to work for days and when I did I was not much good. Penney shared her life with me for 12 years. Thank you for your love and life and all the things you taught me Penney.

Some time later Mindy wandered in to my existence and turned it into life again. Mindy was a short haired, skinny, smallish medium sized mixed breed dog. Mindy chose me. I don’t know what her name might have been, but she seemed to respond to Mindy, so that was it. The name Mindy was not my doing, Mork and Mindy was a TV show in it’s last year or two at the time and a friend tried the name on that dog. Mindy was a stray, feral in many ways, very wary. She lived I know not where... in the woods someplace. Scavenger she was, she would show up at the parking lot at lunch time many days and folks, including me, would feed her. It was getting on into the 2nd. winter I knew of her. Here in the north country the winters can be rough and Mindy was looking in worse shape. On the maybe little evidence we had, we decided that she was a stray. She wanted into my car one day when I opened the door ..... I took her home. Mindy became a well traveled dog. Cross country a few times, way up into Northern Canada, lots of camping and traveling. We played and loved for 11 years. Thank you for your love and life Mindy, and thank you for choosing to be with me. How old she was when she crossed the Rainbow Bridge I don’t know, but how precious was that life to me. I vowed to never have another animal so as to avoid that pain. Even through the pain I knew it was the way of this life,... our animals live shorter lives than we do I knew, but I was bitter, angry, hurt, devastated, lost.

During Mindy’s time with me, or more correctly mine with hers, Frisky came to live with us. (us = Mindy and I) Frisky, a multi-colored cat, was a gift from a dying friend (cancer) who needed to give away her animals to homes that would care from them. Frisky was 12 when she came to live with Mindy and I. They got along famously. They would sleep curled up with each other in front of the fireplace or next to the stove. I was heating with wood then .... my back to earth days. Frisky was more like a dog than a cat, loving, personable, always in you lap. She would walk in the woods with us, go camping, etc. Frisky was with me for several years after Mindy went on and then also for a cross country move. Frisky was 24 when she also crossed the Rainbow Bridge. Thank you for your life Frisky. Frisky’s passing was particularly gut wrenching, for it also was the passing of an era for me. Additionally, I was alone after her, and alone for some time.

Some time after Frisky, Maddie (Madeline) who was a liver Brittany Spaniel, was reluctantly given to me by friends whose children were discovered to be allergic to what was supposed to be a family pet. I had a traveling job then, and then traveled myself on a hiatus from work. Maddie travelled all over the country including Canada and Alaska with me in a motorhome, many times around the continent, 5+ years in all. Maddie was my true love... but how can you say that above all the other loves? Anyway from the standpoint of a symbiotic relationship amazingly between species, Maddie ‘knew’ me. I swear that she could read my mind. But, But,... BUT so did all the others...... Maddie gave her life to me for almost 16 years. It was real tough at the end, vets, specialists, tests, surgery, ... a chance - but it didn’t work. Thank you for your love and life Maddie You may be the most precious one.

While Maddie was with me, Karen... Karen I don’t remember who but thank her endlessly, continually asked me to take her ferret. She was moving, I worked with her .... a job upgrade for her...., and she needed to place the ferret or take it to the animal shelter, and chances of it ever leaving was small. I knew nothing about ferrets but must’ve looked like a soft heart. So I took the ferret, intending to place it myself. Boy did I fall in love..... what a wonderful and amazing animal. The ferret was ‘Little one.’ Maddie took to it and we were a happy trio, traveling, camping, happy living. Little One got one of the usual genetic sensitized cancers and in spite of heroic efforts was only with me 4 years and a month. I cried for many days. I was so upset I didn’t know how to get on with life. Just like now. Just like now. Just like now. Maddie grieved too, or behavior I attribute to grieving. Thank you for your life and all the things you taught me Little One.

Some time after Maddie crossed the Bridge, my vet told me of a dog at the “Last Chance Rescue.” She thought it would be a good match, and that it was time for me to have another dog. Last chance it was, for that rescue operation takes dogs who others have rejected and who have problems. It is truly their last chance before euthanasia. However this was a cute dog about a year old. Placement in three homes so far – none worked out. She’s a street dog, a scavenger. a feral, abused in her puppyhood on the street. From Puerto Rico, picked up near Dead Dog Beach. How she got to the north country is convoluted. But she had vet papers – in Spanish, and seemed to have a good temperament. Sold! Boy did our town clerk have fun with those Spanish papers when I registered her. Her name ..... Maggie! How quizzical; - other than my 1st. dog who I named, my other dogs came to me already named and all with rhyming M’s. Mindy, Maddie, Maggie. What’s the universe trying to tell me? Maggie’s been with me a little more than a year now, she’s 2+ . She’s with me 24/7, she goes to work with me, it’s been a challenge in some areas, but she’s now bonded and socialized. Very loving. Precious. Has some health problems, but who doesn’t. I was very unsure of how this rescue would work. But now..... wonderful - marvelous. Thank you Maggie for being with me.

But that with my present loss? It doesn’t matter, it should, but because of the veil of pain it just doesn’t. I’m unbelievably upset and lost. Can’t get my bearings. What do I do? Each new loss brings up again the previous losses. Worse. Worse. It’s only me and the animals. How do I function? One third of us is missing.

Writing this helps some, but the pain goes on, it’s intense and hardly bearable..

Many say older adult life is all about losses, but now as I think of all my lost animals, all the heartache, all the transitions and adjustments when they need to leave me, all the forever sadness,.... now, now, I worry about the future, what about my leaving them? Yes, my leaving them. A real possibility... maybe not now, but surly the next ones..... I think I may survive this somehow, I don’t know how or what life changes will come, but how can I live without a dog and a ferret so I don’t leave them? I couldn’t stand leaving behind my animals. But again, I don’t think I can live without them. What do I do. Will I even survive it this time?

I think need a ferret, that is I need that mutual love, that unique behavior a ferret has, the privilege of taking care of a ferret. A warm, small, soft, furry body to stroke. Light ticklish licks/kisses. Naturally humorous actions. Intense curiosity. Fun play. Taking care of this little animal. Loving this animal.

I dearly love my dog, in no way would I trade her for anything, but I miss a ferret. Perhaps when this present grieving passes.... and perhaps not. It may never pass. It’s more than just the passing of my pet. It’s all the losses. I may not overcome this this time. This time may be the last time. Have you heard, I lost my ferret.

Weasel, dear Weasel, dear dear Weasel, listen:
- on your side of that Rainbow Bridge, find Penney, find Mindy, find Frisky, find Maddie, find Little One, even find Jingles. Tell them all you were with me. Bring them up to date. Gather at the bridge, play and wait..... I need to take care of Maggie yet, but we’re coming. It won’t be long dear Weasel. We’re coming. We’ll all be together again. It won’t be long.

Weasel, Oh dear Weasel.......

So I think I’ve decided about our loves’ shorter lives? It’s a cruel cruel joke of nature. One of many.
Live with it we must if we are to live. I lost my ferret. Lost my ferret. Cancer.

Weasel, Weasel, Oh dear Weasel.......