"If you should die before me, ask if you could bring a friend."
The worst possible news came to visit us the other day. Elvis has cancer. Feline Lymphoma. There are no good options. Even with treatment his doctor believes that Elvis would only survive about a year. With treatments we can hold things off, and shrink the tumors in his nostrils, but it would not do a lot more then give us a little more time with our boy. He would be comfortable, and then the drugs would stop working and we would be right back here, watching him fight for his life. I have read that some kitties live as long as two years, but there is really no guarantee.
Alan and I want to put his dignity first. That means letting go in a few weeks. Right now he is in the back yard, chasing butterflies. He is in a good mood, he is still cleaning himself, and loving on us, and I look at him, and I think to myself, this can't be right. But at the same time, he has lost weight because he wouldn't eat, and even now we are giving him medicine to stimulate his appetite, without the medicine he wouldn't be eating.
Alan and I are in pieces, after spending a couple days in shock. He and I are going to go back to see the Elvis's doctor tomorrow, and ask some questions again, just so we are sure about what to do. Right now we still have a happy boy. He is such a happy little boy, and we are indulging him like crazy. That's where things are at the moment. I was telling a friend that I think Elvis knows what's going on, on some level. Last night Alan and I were sitting together crying, and Elvis came into the room and sat down between us. He put one paw on Alan and one paw on me, as if to comfort us. That's what he does. He takes care of us.
April 21, 2008
My 2017 Reading List
9 months ago