Elvis update.
We stopped Elvis’s chemo treatment back in November… Paul said it was time.
The effects of the chemo had become compounded; it took longer for her to recover every time and I found myself in an uncomfortable place where I was doing math to gauge the quality of her life: # bad days + # ok days + # good days = time to go back for more chemo.
I don’t regret treating the cancer, but it was hard on her. That’s difficult to think about, and I’m not sure if it was right… but ultimately I haven’t second-guessed the decision because I am so beyond deeply grateful for the extra time I’ve had with her.
When Paul said it was time to stop chemo, I really struggled. Even though I didn’t DISAGREE, it was so hard to accept.
But at the very beginning of all of this, I had told myself that I would listen and TRUST Paul’s judgement about the hard decisions because my own line in the sand would be impaired.
The time since stopping the chemo has been wonderful… the cancer was in remission, she gained weight, got some new nonsensical-nicknames, got her whiskers back, and would occasionally tear through the house, being chased by whatever invisible demons plague cats.
But she has begun having the same symptoms that got her diagnosed in the first place… which means remission has ended and the cancer is back.
She is still hanging in there and doing well; we are treating her symptoms, and she is responding… but we have had a few days where I thought: this is the tipping point.
Right now I feel like we are living on the edge of a cliff: it’s strange how everything is FINE there! As long as you are STILL ON THE EDGE.
However. It is impossible to forget that once you fall over, things are going to become problematic REALLY FAST.
Paul and Elvis, napping at the beach… he probably won’t thank me for using this photo, but I love it.
I also love this one below, because it sums up why I love Paul.
He said– there, I’ve fixed Elvis for you.
***insert words about my feelings, because I typed a whole bunch, cried, deleted it, walked away, rewrote it, but still not expressing myself. so, just THIS FACE.***
I will love you EVEN MORE… if you share me with your friends.
Elizabeth
February 9, 2016 @ 1:05 pm
You have love amongst the three of you, Paul and you and that sweet girl. The blessing of that loving bond is the most prescious gift of all. You will never lose that gift, no matter what the future brings. The love will never be lost. You will always be Victoria and Paul and Elvis. Wildly in love with each other.
Katharine
February 9, 2016 @ 1:08 pm
I don’t know what to say except that I’ve been there, I love how much you (and Paul) love Elvis, and I love Elvis.
And I know Elvis knows how much you love her. <3
Kay
February 9, 2016 @ 1:15 pm
I’ve been thinking about you lately, figuring that something was going on with Elvis. I’m glad she’s still with you. As you say, it’s fine there on top of the cliff. Love the pic of Paul and Elvis. Love the duct tape–if only it were so easy! Love all the pics. Thank you for keeping us involved.
Your suffering is very protracted. On the one hand you still have her, but on the other you’ve been recognizing the inevitable for a long time. I’ve had many cats, but the one I loved best went into a decline after she lost her best friend. It was his time, but it should not have been hers, and even though she had this terrible problem and I kept taking her to the vet, I didn’t know she was dying until the vet told me. It was a horrible shock. I don’t know which is worse, the sudden or the long-expected. Certainly neither is easy.
I must tell you something very important that I learned through hard experience. If the time comes that you need to put her out of her misery, you might be told that she is dead when her heart stops. Don’t believe it. As long as there is light in her eyes, she can see and hear and feel. She will want every bit of your love and attention as she slips away.
I will pray for you as you deal with this.
Jamie
February 9, 2016 @ 1:20 pm
You guys are in my thoughts and prayers. It never gets any easier.
Aloma DeVaux
February 9, 2016 @ 1:29 pm
…as you know there is NOTHING greater than the love of our furry peoples. And when we see them facing the end its very difficult. I had a cat, he was my wonderful savior for 17yrs. He has been gone for nearly 4yrs now and I still get emotional when I talk about him. I wrote this in his honor…
I met him when I was 25. Clearly we were different, I was a dog lover, he preferred cats. But when I looked into those beautiful green eyes, it was love at first site. I had this overwhelming desire to take him home with me. It was such a hasty decision for me, but I wanted to love him, and be loved by him. He would be my first and most likely, my only.
He was loyal, never objected to much and so much fun to be around. He would prove to be my ‘voice of reason’ on occasion, my #1 responsibility and the best spooning partner ever. He loved to curl up with me for naps…he’d lay his head down on the pillow beside me and let me hold him tight while we drifted off into sweet slumber. I fed him, picked up after him and loved him with all my might. And he loved me in return. More than I ever thought I could be loved. Following me around the house like a lovesick boy he was never far from me when I was at home. He never let me down when I needed a shoulder to cry on, he always knew when I’d had a bad day and made sure to comfort me any way he could.
When I came home from work, he was the first one to greet me (and often the only one). He didn’t mind if I spent the whole day out riding my horse or thrift shopping, he was just happy I was coming home to him. We’d play ball and tag and have long long talks, just the two of us. He was an amazing companion. And those who didn’t typically like ‘his kind’ grew very fond of him quickly, his character was unlike any other. He had the power to convert anyone! He certainly changed my life. And now my life will forever be changed without him by side.
Spud was my cat. He had the heart of a kind and wise person, who incidentally thought he was a dog, all wrapped up in a unique feline suit. He once thought fetching a ball was the greatest fun ever and he loved to love on people. He healed many wounds with his kindness over the years. I will always be so grateful and blessed by his time with me – 17yrs. I brought him home when he was only 8wks old. He was always a little gordo and had this little fat belly, after a few weeks of trying to name him it occurred to me one day that he had a perfectly black tail sprouting out from his white body…it reminded me of a potato spud…and that’s how he got his infamous name.
Looking back now it seems the last 17yrs have gone by in an instant. After watching him fade away for the last year, I couldn’t bare to see his once rotund figure whittle away to skin and bones any longer. And ever faithful to the end he didn’t seem to be in any pain, but as a lot of us know, cats are wonderfully sly and they don’t always let us know when they need us. That’s their innate independence no doubt. Always my brave and quiet friend, I think he was trying to comfort me in that last hour of his life. He leaned against my chest and gave me an occasional headbutt as he often did to remind me to pet him. He purred away and with just a few taps of the tail he let me know he was content in my arms…an hour later he would sitting in my lap one last time and then he would be gone.
We laid him to rest on Friday afternoon, the sun was out and the weather was warm and perfect. We placed him under a giant tree in an orchard where I believe he would have enjoyed scouting for crickets and birds and basking in the sun. His love touched a few people over the years and it doesn’t matter if you believe in Jesus or are a devout Atheist, there is one thing that is absolutely universal, the love of an animal and the joy they bring to our hearts is unparalleled to that of any other. He was my first ‘child’ and he will most likely be my last cat. I know in my heart he is free to be forever young now…
God Bless you and Elvis!
Aloma
Rachael
February 9, 2016 @ 1:38 pm
Having gone through this recently with my Greyhound who had osteosarcoma, I totally understand. She was my beautiful Bella, my heart dog (the one who has your heart) and I agonized over when was the right time to let her go. After several months of treatments and then just taking care of the pain, I finally made the decision to let her go. I was fortunate that my vet came to my house so she could go in her own bed. It was very hard for me to make that decision. I’m crying for her as I write this. I have to say that it was the right thing to do. I felt we were both at peace afterward. I’ll be saying a little prayer for you and Elvis.
Anne
February 9, 2016 @ 1:41 pm
I only discovered your blog last week and was immediately drawn in by the uncanny similarities in our lives. You and Elvis are in my thoughts. When I read your post about her cancer and how it is impossible to describe in words all the things you love about her and what she means to you, my own beloved black & white baby girl was curled up on my lap. I also had a black and white girl cat growing up who was always there for me, and losing her was the hardest loss of my life so far. There really are no words to take the pain away, but my heart goes out to you.
I’m also acutely aware of the “math” of good days vs. bad days, as we lost our 14 and a half year old lab (she was my husband’s dog before we even started dating) to cancer only 4 weeks ago today. Making those decisions for when to stop treating and when to let go is so, so tough. I’m glad you have Paul to help you through the overwhelming process. I know you’ll make the time Elvis has as comfortable and full of love as it can be. Just soak each other up. She’ll forever be there in your heart.
jae
February 9, 2016 @ 1:52 pm
Been through exactly the same with our most wonderful perfect cat imaginable, and all you can do is what is best for sweet Elvis. It hurts, but better for us to hurt than the animal. And so many times at the end we told our dear boy a quote from a.a.milne, I will never not remember you….and 8 years later we still think of all the love he brought us. Take lots and lots of pictures, cuddle sweet Elvis all you can, and be glad for the good times you have together. I hate that you have to go through this….sending you a big hug.
Scooter Conrad
February 9, 2016 @ 1:57 pm
Can’t read anymore. Its too difficult.
Take Care. Warm wishes to all & Stay warm if you’re on the east coast.
Mary
February 9, 2016 @ 2:03 pm
I am sorry for your situation with Elvis. Many years ago I lost my horse, Cheyenne. I had had him for 23-24 years and he died at 29. I still remember that day and how I felt. It was a Sunday afternoon but I still called my vet to come ‘tend’ to him. I found a fella with a backhoe and he came out to dig the hole. I have a lock of his mane and many pictures. I am telling you this because I know what you are feeling, I’ve been there. It’s hard and hurtful, but I hope in time for you and Paul to smile and remember how Elvis brightened your life. She would not want you to be sad.
AB
February 9, 2016 @ 2:11 pm
Elizabeth and Paul we love you. Especially because you posted the picture of Paul and Elvis. The love. The humanity.
susan
February 9, 2016 @ 2:18 pm
Oh Victoria, my heart is with you and Paul and, most of all, Elvis. I type this through tears as well.
Lori
February 9, 2016 @ 2:32 pm
My husband and I have lost three four-legged kids during our married life. Not one day goes by that I don’t think of them… sometimes with a smile, a hearty laugh, a quivering lip, or a full-blown cry. I dread the day(s) that will come in the future for our two surviving kids… sometimes to the point that I cry while loving them!
Time has taught me that a heartbreak reflects just how much we loved and were loved back!
Love & prayers for all three of you!
Catherine W.
February 9, 2016 @ 2:35 pm
One day Elvis will just let you know “it’s time.” And you’ll hate to let him go, but you’ll know it’s time to release him. And you’ll know that you gave him every second you could of a wonderful life, being loved by you.
Pat
February 9, 2016 @ 2:44 pm
Paul is right. Duct tape holds the world together. I’m thinking of you all and wish you peace and comfort for whatever comes.
Christine Altman
February 9, 2016 @ 2:45 pm
Sometimes a simple gesture speaks more voluably than paragraphs full of words.
Duct Tape.
Good on Paul for finding that sweet spot, and good on you for recognizing it for the gift it was.
Smiling through the tears…
Lauren
February 9, 2016 @ 3:08 pm
I am so sorry that you’re going through this. My husband and I lost two pets in the past year and it was devastating both times. I am sure Elvis knows how much she is loved and appreciates everything you are doing to help her… you have made her life a good one. She is lucky to have you and Paul.
Sue Ketchum
February 9, 2016 @ 3:13 pm
I am heartbroken for you and Paul as you face the loss of your sweet Elvis, yet from experience I know there is nothing that really helps. It just hurts so BAD. My own Presley, the sweetest but worst shedding, eleven and a half year old, long haired, springer spaniel, has become more unstrung this past year. It hurts.
Just remember that you have people who understand how you feel, and have come to know and love, from afar, you and your Hellava Great Kitty.
Marian
February 9, 2016 @ 3:21 pm
Was sitting here with tears running down my face when I read the comment about you shaving your legs before you wear shorts. That totally cracked me up. And, that’s what we need when our hearts are breaking. . . . a little bit of funny stuff that we can usually get from our fur kids. We had always had 1 pet at a time until 13 years ago when we ended up with 3 cats. When we lost Thomas, our big boy cat, it was the love from Phoebe and Trixie that kept me going. From now on, I will always have multiple animals – just sayin’.
Fiamma
February 9, 2016 @ 3:32 pm
Elvis is a love. The duct tape slayed me.
Having been down this road many times I agree with everyone who said you know when it is time. You do. You just do.
Animals are the greatest gift and while it breaks our hearts when they must go, it was worth it every single time. Hugs to you and Paul and a scratch behind the ears for Elvis.