Samskeyti

[hrafn]

I lost my baby girl today. My angel. My heart

I'm so sorry, Sam. I love you I love you I love you I love you

 

[Erikalynnha]

I'm so sorry for your loss she was a gorgeous lady

 

[Begone]

I'm so sorry!
Did you know what happened to her?

 

[Mockinbirdiva]

Aaaw... so sorry! She was a beautiful girl! I'm glad you have such nice photos of her to remember by.

 

[hrafn]

I'm so sorry!
Did you know what happened to her?

She had a malabsorption disorder and wasn't able to properly absorb nutrients from her food. Her vet didn't expect her to live to a year old, but Sammy is my tough noodle and she fought for her life. Her inability to digest her meals normally has led to a lot of secondary illnesses, including Metabolic Bone Disease, infectious stomatitis, and anorexia, but she pulled through all of it through the perseverance of her vet, uncountable adjustments to my husbandry, and her own endless willpower. Once in a while something would go so wrong that euthanasia seemed the best option, but then we'd come up with a plan of action and she'd get well again.

Sam's the only reptile with a malabsorption disorder that my vet has ever met, and none of the other hundreds of vets she spoke with have dealt with it either, so there wasn't a set guide to follow, just guesswork and a lot of hope.

Sam would have turned seven years old next month, but she never got any larger than the average yearling in size, just barely three feet long and fluctuating between 200-350 grams. But she never stopped fighting.

I loved her more than I could ever even try to put into words. I'll always love her.

 

[rocky'smom]

Oh honey I am so sorry for your loss.

 

[Begone]

I loved her more than I could ever even try to put into words. I'll always love her.

Again, I'm so sorry.
And thanks for explaining.

 

[Dartman]

 

[iamwhoiam]

Sorry for your loss.

 

[Fuzzy]

Ohhhhhh I'm so sorry. She was and is beautiful.

 

[hrafn]

I'm in shock. I don't know what to even do with myself.

Although nearly all of my pets are special needs in some way or another, Samkeyti was something else entirely. I have journals upon journals upon journals filled to the margins with nothing but information about Sam: her daily weigh-ins, feeding schedule and feed response, the minutest changes in temperature and humidity, progress (and relapse) reports, medical history, programs her vet and I came up with...just endless, day-by-day, hour-by-hour, minute-by-minute details of pretty much every moment I had with her.

Sam's care was so extensive and required such attention to detail that she consumed a massive share of my waking hours. For seven years, I dedicated my life to her. I would have continued to do so for decades, and prayed that I'd be able to. But even the short time that I got with her was precious.

Honestly, everything about Sam was unique. Even the way I met her was unusual; I had spent literal years begging my mother to let me get a snake, and had finally managed to convince her. I'd perused breeder sites and local rescues and even Kijiji without luck, which is crazy for how common ball pythons are, and then one day my mum and I went to the Crossroads farmer's market and, insanely, there was a man there who had rented a booth, and was selling...reptiles. I had never seen this man there before, and have never seen him again. I didn't even know people were allowed to sell pets there, nor has anyone (to my knowledge) ever been selling any sort of animal there since. It was crazy. It was serendipity! Obviously I had to check it out, and among the tanks full of beautiful morphs and rare exotics sat a dinky Exo-terra tank with the smallest little ball python I'd ever seen. She was a normal (though the guy tried to tell me she was a "high yellow", which for those not in the know is not a real thing), and I loved her from the start.

I paid probably $60 for her, the tank, and the few accessories that were stuffed inside, and Samskeyti came home with me: a dorky nineteen-year-old with a cockatiel and a pair of newts, who had never had a snake before but had always loved them. I shelled out a small fortune for a custom-made PVC enclosure, showered her with love, and, when I found out exactly why she was so tiny, promised her that I'd never give up on her, and I'd fight for her for as long as she had.

God.

What am I going to do without her?

 

[Fuzzy]

 

[Rain Bow]

I'm so sorry!

 

[taxidermynerd]

I'm so sorry. It's clear you cared for her a lot. I'm so sorry for your loss. It seems life has not been very kind to you lately. Big hugs.

 

[Jas]

I'm sorry for your loss

 

[pawfectly]

I’m so sorry for your loss. Remember that she had a great life with you and loved you as well.

 

[cassiesdad]

I am so very sorry for your loss.

Sammy definitely was a fighter...and she had a perfect partner in you...

 

[KatelynDeanne]

Im so sorry for your loss, dear

 

[Erikalynnha]

I'm in shock. I don't know what to even do with myself.

Although nearly all of my pets are special needs in some way or another, Samkeyti was something else entirely. I have journals upon journals upon journals filled to the margins with nothing but information about Sam: her daily weigh-ins, feeding schedule and feed response, the minutest changes in temperature and humidity, progress (and relapse) reports, medical history, programs her vet and I came up with...just endless, day-by-day, hour-by-hour, minute-by-minute details of pretty much every moment I had with her.

Sam's care was so extensive and required such attention to detail that she consumed a massive share of my waking hours. For seven years, I dedicated my life to her. I would have continued to do so for decades, and prayed that I'd be able to. But even the short time that I got with her was precious.

Honestly, everything about Sam was unique. Even the way I met her was unusual; I had spent literal years begging my mother to let me get a snake, and had finally managed to convince her. I'd perused breeder sites and local rescues and even Kijiji without luck, which is crazy for how common ball pythons are, and then one day my mum and I went to the Crossroads farmer's market and, insanely, there was a man there who had rented a booth, and was selling...reptiles. I had never seen this man there before, and have never seen him again. I didn't even know people were allowed to sell pets there, nor has anyone (to my knowledge) ever been selling any sort of animal there since. It was crazy. It was serendipity! Obviously I had to check it out, and among the tanks full of beautiful morphs and rare exotics sat a dinky Exo-terra tank with the smallest little ball python I'd ever seen. She was a normal (though the guy tried to tell me she was a "high yellow", which for those not in the know is not a real thing), and I loved her from the start.

I paid probably $60 for her, the tank, and the few accessories that were stuffed inside, and Samskeyti came home with me: a dorky nineteen-year-old with a cockatiel and a pair of newts, who had never had a snake before but had always loved them. I shelled out a small fortune for a custom-made PVC enclosure, showered her with love, and, when I found out exactly why she was so tiny, promised her that I'd never give up on her, and I'd fight for her for as long as she had.

God.

What am I going to do without her?

Maybe you can go on reptile forums and share this knowledge? I know you said it's not really seen in reptiles but maybe someone out there is going through the same thing and your experience could be so helpful to them.

 

[Brittany0208]

I don't even have words other than I'm so incredibly sorry for your loss. I hope you find a ray of sunshine during this cloudy period.