Yes, I know that is not how you spell "weasel." But that's what we named our ferret when we got him some years ago. We bought him from our neighbor (who doesn't live here anymore). We got him for $60 and were very happy to add him to our little family. He's a sweetheart. He's never bitten anyone, never even snapped. He likes to run around the house and sleep in weird places.

About half a year ago, he became sick. We didn't think much of it. That is, until he started screaming bloody murder and going into seizures. I was the one stuck holding the little screaming thing the whole half hour ride to the only veterinarians office that was open at 10pm and took in exotic animals. He stayed there for two weeks until they finally stabilized him an took a look into what the problem was. They discovered a tumor on his pancreas. This is a very common illness among ferrets, it seems. We never knew because we had never owned one before so we didn't take the necessary precautions to prevent it from happening. The tumor was basically releasing huge amounts of insulin into his system, causing his sugar to go 40 to 50 points below normal. We couldn't afford to have the proper procedure done, so we were going to have him put down. But, some how, my dad decided that Weezul should live and forked out the cash needed (which was, like, $900). I don't know how he did it, but he did and Weezul was saved. They performed the surgery the next day and said it couldn't have gone better.

Ever since, we've had to give Weezul a liquid medicine every day to help keep his sugar up and insulin low. We had it all under control and he could run around the house as much as he wanted.

Yesterday, I discovered him in his cage, laying in his own filth because he couldn't get back up into his make-shift bed (a box top with a soft sheet in it). Shocked, I picked him up and set him down on the floor, hoping he'd get up and run off. He just sat up on his front legs and looked at me. He couldn't walk. His little back legs would kick helplessly, but were not strong enough to support him any longer.

"Maybe he's just tired. Maybe he needs an extra dose of the medicine today. Yeah, I bet that'll make him feel better. I'll take him out of his cage later today when he's better."

He never got better. I spent the night checking in on him, petting him and making sure when he went to the bathroom, he wouldn't just lay there next to his bed looking pitiful because he couldn't support himself enough to climb back into it.

He still can't walk. He just sits in his bed, looking up at me as if he were asking me why all of this was happening to him. He can still reach his food and water and he can maneuver himself enough to curl up and go to sleep. But otherwise, he's pretty much stuck where he is.

I don't know what I'm going to do. I think we're going to take him to the vet again today, hoping they have an explanation and a fix for it that won't completely wreck our pockets. If not, we'll have to put Weezul to sleep.

So, here's to hoping Weezul gets better. I really hope he'll be fine.. and this is all just a small bump in the road.