Storm is coming

My sunshine, rainbows, and kittens is slowly dissolving leaving mush in  my mouth and rocks in my stomach. I know life will always have its ups and downs, meetings and partings, but sometimes good byes are too difficult to bear.

Last night, I let myself and my natural tendencies to get the better of me. The result? I took my unfounded suspicions, paranoia, and anxieties out on the man. I feel terrible for this. I’m grateful that he’s so kind hearted and understanding that he can see past this.

Maybe that’s because of the dark cloud from today.

We took one of our cats to the vet today. The vet came highly recommended. My sweet princess Toothless is on the decline, but she’s only 4 years old. Her rear end is so tiny. She’s lost so much weight. Her coat is dull. Her hind legs are so weak. I’m watching her rot and mystified as to the cause. I’ve been trying to eliminate the more obvious problems, but as to what’s going on with her, I only had suspicions.

Could be her kidneys. Could be hyperthyroidism. Could be allergies. Could be cancer. Guess what? It’s cancer.

She has a tumor in her spine. It’s bone cancer. It’s inoperative. No surgery can fix this. Chemo isn’t an option. She’s on borrowed time. I fought my tears as I saw the X Ray of Toothless’s disintegrating spine. Soon she will be paralyzed and we will have to put her down. There is no miracle coming to save the day. Only my tears.

I was sent home with pain medication to keep her comfortable. I was sent home with no hope. I have my love for her still though. I have this final time to spend with her.

She’s still my sweet girl. She still purrs and wants to be pet. She still places her soft, velvet paws in the palm of my hand. She still nips my fingers. I still have time with her for at least a little while.

My kids will be coming home from school soon and I’ll have to face them with the truth. I know she’s just a cat, but she’s so much more to us. She’s a member of our family. She’s softened our moments of pain. She’s been that needed hug. She’s been our shoulder to cry on. She’s that giggle of sheer joy.

Now it’s our turn to care for her like she cares for us. I can only hope that in these final days she knows she is loved.


5 thoughts on “Storm is coming”

  1. Oh I am so sorry! My sis had a beloved Pug that was only five or six who passed of cancer a few years ago. We love our pets and it hurts to see them hurting and it hurts to lose them.

  2. Thank you for your kind words. They are much appreciated.

    It all seems so unfair… we take such attention to her care. Omega and glucose for her soreness. Sudsy dawn dish soap baths because we didn’t want regular flea treatment to irritate her skin. The vet recommended food always over flowing in her clean dish next to cold, filtered water. She’s spayed. She’s chipped. She’s never allowed outside. In the end there was never anything we could have done.

    I am gracious however for the time we have left. It’s not the quantity it’s the quality.

  3. She is lucky to be so loved and have such a good home. Its better to live a short wonderful life the a long crappy life, she is indeed very lucky. I think the hardest part is our human emotions. rationally we know nothing and no one ever truly dies but when a loved one passes out feelings selfishness out of love make us think. No you cant leave I want you here now in the flesh eating and walking and sleep and talking or meowing with me!!!! just because our soul is separate from our emotions does not me the hurt just goes away. Just one of the less favorite things in life we have to deal with, pain and sadness.
    btw sorry for such the long comment I had no idea how much I had to say til I started!!!!!!!

  4. No worries about the long comment. It rings of the truth.

    I know I’m selfish because I want more time. My emotions are totally taking the reigns on this. I feel like pouting and stomping my feet.
    “No. No. Not my kitty. How about the stray down the street?” I realize I’m fruitlessly trying to bargain my way out of this.

    In the end I can hate it all I want and feel like I need to, but when the tumor eats through the rest of her L9 and L10 vertebrae I’m going to have to say my final good bye. She won’t be able to walk. That’s no life for a cat.

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