Well, one of our baby kittens, Goosie -- Gonzo, the Great Explorer, Goo-Goo Kitty -- has cancer. We just found this out recently -- about a week or so ago. He has this ... tumorous growth on his back heel that sprang up and has grown tremendously quickly.
Well, Goosie, Mr. Zetta Man is 20 - 21 years old now. So it's not like he's just a baby kitten. He's been around the block a time or two.
Crazy.
I can still remember him, as a baby kitten reaching out through his cage at me and going crazy, jumping and climbing all over his cage in his efforts to get to me. And reaching out just soooo hard to reach me. He's always been a sociable baby.
Fearlessness.
At one point, when he was not too many years, he climbed up to get into one of the puppy's foodbowls - a German Shepherd named Brutus. Mind you, Brutus was never rough; always the gentlest of pups. It was pure instinct that drove him to grab that cat right out of the the bowl and put him down. Unfortunately, the way he grabbed him, he broke through the skin, etc. Of course, it was a mess. Blood went everywhere. Mom & Dad grabbed Goosie up and rushed him to the vet. Three hundred dollars and more later, he was all patched up.
Of course, for many years later, he walked with a tilted head. He was very much like a stroke or head trauma patient.
However, Gonzie's lived with us again for many years now and over time, he's quit walking with a 90-degree tilt to his head. On most days anyway.
On some days, his more difficult days, he tends to walk with a tiny bit of a tilt. On those days, it's obviously harder for him -- in terms of how he walks, how he appears to approach things.
Smart.
Through all the years he's lived with us though, it's always been clear that he is an incredibly smart cat. He reasons things very clearly and appears to figure them out very quickly. He remembers things -- his memory is just incredible. Of course, some might say I'm just humanizing him.
Today.
So now we get to today. He has this huge tumor on his back foot/heel. It's oozing. When we went to the vet and he told us that Goosie had cancer, he said that it's likely the place has been growing for some time and that we just didn't notice. Cats are incredibly great at hiding their health problems. We've had 13 of them over the last 18 years or so and my goodness it's true. They are quite good at hiding their health problems.
Sadly, this tumor has grown tremendously. It's just amazing. It's almost doubled since we first discovered it. Worse? The skin has busted open -- which makes sense since there's no way skin growth could keep up with this rate of growth.
So now I'm incredibly sad. I think we're gonna have to take him to the vet and I believe the vet is gonna say that there's virtually nothing to be done. Goosie is loosing weight -- he's always been a pretty big cat. Not overweight .. just... solid. But the last few days, week or so ??? he seems smaller. I don't know what his weight is but at the very least, it's redistributing. I don't take that as a good sign.
When the vet told us about the cancer, he said that Goose was too old to undergo any surgery or chemo or anything like that... that old age would probably get him before the cancer did.
Today? I don't think so. I think the cancer is gonna get him first.
Sadness.
I'm very very sad. He's been my friend and my baby for so long. Lately his thing has been to go around the house yelling, "Hey!" "Heeeeey!" in this funny little low, slightly gravelly voice. As I said, he's very sociable and if he can't find you, he'll seek you out!
So there ya go. I'm just desperately sad.
2 comments:
Hey it is I ToJo
thought you might get a giggle out of this. Really does not fit on MWF enjoy
CAT DIARY
Day 983 of my captivity:
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects.
They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape.
In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.
Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet.
I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a "good little hunter" I am.
There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of "allergies." I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.
Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs.
I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches.
The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded.
The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicate with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now...
Thank you, tojo. I needed that giggle. In fact, I ROLLED!
LOL
Thanks! :)
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