Memories and Grieving

Well, I got back from D.C. a few days ago, and when I got home, I found that my ferret had started to crash while I was gone. His appetite had waned, but he was still drinking. Until last night. He stopped eating and drinking, he couldn't stand on his own, and I finally said that if I got my unemployment check in the mail, I would put him down the next day. Well, I got my tax break check, and I called the vet and told them I wanted to bring him in the next day. Made the appointment. The vet wanted to check him over first, which I consented to, of course, and I said we'd be in the next day.

So, I wrapped him in a blanket and had him on my couch with me while I slept through the night. My roommate was awake until 6 AM, and she got up for a bit before she went to sleep, and when she did, my William was standing at the end of the couch, looking up at it, and she picked him up and put him in the blanket next to me.

Then, two hours later, the phone started ringing, and it didn't stop, it kept ringing, until I finally got up to answer it. When I got there, it stopped ringing, and then I turned around and came back to bed. I uncovered him to check on him, and he wasn't breathing. He was still very warm, but he was gone. It was eerie, but people say that stuff happens from time to time, when someone passes on, the electrical equipment go on the fritz, phones ring. My roommate is Native American, she wrapped him up and saged the apartment to help him pass on and not get stuck here. And by the way, I'm sure everyone who's reading this understands, but I'll say it just in case someone else reads this and wants to give me hell, but I don't want to get into a theoretical debate about animals, their souls, and whether or not they have them or such and such. I have my beliefs. You have yours.

So, after I got home from taking him to the vet to have him cremated, the phone was ringing again. This time I answered it, and it was just white noise. My roommate came over and took the phone, then said she heard someone talking in it, described it as a 30 something year old male, and hung it up quickly. It could be unrelated, but ghosts tend to feed off of grief and be able to get powerful and do something. Well, if you've tuned into some of my earlier journals (I think I wrote about this in there), my apartment is haunted by a guy. A very violent, mad spirit. So... That's the creep factor for the day, on top of the mourning I'm going through right now. I'm going to feature some photos of not only my ferret, but other ferret photos on DA.

I'm just thinking about all the things that I've lost, and it hurts so much I can't really think straight. His love of sodas, which made us unable to leave any sodas out, otherwise he'd topple them over, drink his fill, and leave the rest for us to clean up. We couldn't ever get ketchup packets from fast food places, because he could smell it from a mile away and steal as many as he could, then drag them out and tear them open, and shake them around and spray the walls with red (the first time he did that, it scared the bejeezes out of me). The lack of a shoebox shooting across the floor with a happy ferret squeaking underneath it as he chased the cats(his way of having fun with them and not getting smacked for it by them). A watch that he stole repeatedly from my roommate, until she finally just said he could have it(mostly because we couldn't find it). His addictive love for top ramen which brought him running every time he ever heard a bag of it crinkling in the kitchen, then when he got his piece, sent him running away hissing, for fear that someone would steal his prize, and wouldn't come back for more because he had learned that he only got one piece from every bag (sensative stomach, I couldn't give him more than the one). How he used to, without fail, ride in the car, draped over my shoulders, around the back of my neck, no matter how long the ride was(that's how I spent my first 10 hours with him, driving home from Oregon). How everybody who knew me, and even some that didn't, knew and loved William. There was never one person who didn't adore him, who he didn't like and amble on out to see if they came to the apartment. He loved people, they loved him. He was endearing, and when I told everybody that I was putting him down today, people were calling and coming over to see him and say goodbye. He touched everybody's hearts. And the way that, whenever I was upset about anything, he always seemed to know and crawl up onto my couch with me(before he developed the habint in his old age of spending almost all of his time with me), and stare at me, as if to say that it was all going to be ok, and to give him a piece of top ramen while I was at it.

I think, for his memory, I'm going to put a video up on photobucket, one of the last vids I took of him, and post the link here. It was one of the last times I caught him playing, and I took a video of it on my camera. He deserves more, but a monumental statue of him will have to wait until I've written and published my book. Then I'll commission a giant bronze statue of him and have him at the entry to my manor, where he can greet everybody like he always used to.

Dreams, you know.

I'll talk to you all later.

Edit: Here's the short video, I have to spend some time shortening the other one, the longer one, but I'll do that as soon as I've got my wits back about me.

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