Not particularly a surprise when I got a call about an hour ago to say that Monty had passed away at the vet's - they'd been trying to feed him by hand all day and he'd just not responded at all.
To be honest, when I left him there this morning I didn't really expect anything different as a result, but I guess there's always that slim chance things might not be quite as bad as you think they are. Ferrets are buggers for going downhill very quickly, because of how fast their metabolism runs, and I've learned to factor that in a while back. He hadn't been the solid little oik you see in the photo above for quite a while...
He was about 6 years old, which always seems to be when they start to get old rather than middle-aged, though the one he leaves behind is still as mad as a kit a fraction of his age. I got him and his compatriots in November 2011 and he didn't have a name till he had his first trip to the vet last summer. I didn't think 'fat lump', which was what he got called more often than not, was a name they'd think was appropriate so had to think of something for him (afterwards realising that there were shades of Withnail to it all: "Monty, you terrible [expletive]" being one of that movie's classic lines).
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