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In 2008 I adopted a beautiful Maine Coon, Etta James. She's been the sweet little soul around the house ever since, and everyone that's met her has loved her. She has cancer. An oral tumor that's long since pushed one of her eyes a good ways out of its socket. After a biopsy and some blood work we decided that with a tumor in the roof of her mouth, by her brain, that grew to its current size in a matter of weeks, palliative care was the only option. She's been on Prednizone to ease the symptoms and Remeron to help with her appetite.     There's a bit of an issue. I was bracing myself to put her to sleep quickly to keep the cancer from causing her too much pain, but she hasn't even seemed to notice that she's on death's doorstep. She's acting exactly like she used to, and since adding the Remeron and switching to an all-fish food she's been gaining weight. She's started to drool out of the bad side of her mouth, but even with a string of slobber trailing down her chest she is acting just like she's always been. I was all set to put her to sleep sooner than later, but after I took her out for a wander in a big empty soccer field one cold morning, she really demonstrated to me that she is still happy to be here. I've decided not to say goodbye until she asks me to end it. That may not be the most cogent way of putting it, but when diabetes turned my black lab inside out in 2010, he let me know when he wanted out. The thing is, I'm no longer confident that I'll be able to tell when Etta's situation goes from good enough to bad enough. She still climbs up on me when I'm sleeping, and pushes her way into my lap when I'm at my desk. She insists on being let out for some fresh air (leashed or monitored) at all hours, and she's as willful as ever about anything you could name. On the occasions that some of the tumor has sloughed off in her mouth and she has been oozing blood down her chin... she doesn't give a gently caress and acts like she always does. Do you have any idea how to tell when a stubborn old cuss of a cat has had enough pain even if she won't admit to it?
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Apr 18, 2014 08:20
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| # ¿ May 17, 2024 05:03 |
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Etta was shaking a bit Sunday morning, and she hadn't been able to keep her fur clean with the constant drool. My mom drove up here that night, and on Monday morning we put her to sleep. It was probably sooner than it needed to be, but I guess I agree with the 'better a week early than a day late' school. It was the first time I got a real feeling that she didn't want to be here anymore, and that's what I was waiting for. She was a tough old cuss to the end, and the sweetest cat anyone in my family had ever met. We'll all miss her. Thanks for your support.
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Apr 22, 2014 20:10
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