Where I’ve been: sad.
Elvis has stomach cancer.
It will be terminal.
I have been wanting to write this post since her diagnosis, but it took me a while to crawl out of the sadness cave.
Figuring out what was wrong with her took a while. Lots of vet visits. Lots of blood work. X-rays. Ultrasounds. Allergy trials. Vet specialty hospitals. Endoscopy.
The official report:
Elvis is an eleven/twelveish-year-old female cat, with large-cell, gastric lymphoma.
Her treatment is chemotherapy, with daily doses of steroids.
The hope is that the chemo will induce a period of remission… although there is no hope of curing the kind of lymphoma that she has. At some point the cancer will become resistant to the chemotherapy, and she will come out of remission.
I think that chemo seems questionable to anyone who has ever watched a human loved one endure it… but it turns out that the goal of veterinary chemotherapy is different than human chemotherapy.
In people, the goal is to completely and aggressively eradicate all of the cancer. But in animals the goal is different– the concern of preserving their quality of life is equivalent to treating the cancer.
Elvis is seeing a veterinary oncologist and she explained that people are generally surprised at how well their animals do on chemotherapy… and for the most part, I would agree.
Right now Elvis has more good days than bad days, but the bad days are a bleak reminder that the good days are just a pitstop.
Her good days make me thankful— that she is here now, and hopefully for longer… I am thankful she is responding to the treatment and tolerating it acceptably, and thankful for the doctor and the oncology nurses who are so wonderful.
This is not at all the post I wanted to write.
I’ve written 57 versions of it to try to tell you how much I love Elvis. How she is my favorite thing in the entire world. How she has the sweetest heart of anyone I know. How my satisfaction rate with her is 100%. How it is not very often you get the very best thing in the universe.
And none of the versions are right. Because they do not reach through your screen and put Elvis on your lap, so you can feel her fur; which is superior.
Or see how she drools when you pet her. Or how she likes to sleep inside your clothing— while you are wearing it.
Or the way she likes to tell you how her day was. And how she will come and stand on her hind legs so that you will pick her up.
How she believes there is never NOT room on your lap.
And how she will come up and paw the covers at your neck so you will let her under… then she purrs as loud as possible while madly kneading your arm and drooling.
Elvis is my family in every sense of the word.
Susie
August 24, 2015 @ 1:36 pm
My heart goes out to you, Paul and Elvis! I lost my first very beloved kitty, Tyrone, to stomach cancer when he was 12. He was a great cat and even now, 17 years later, he still has a piece of my heart. When he was ill, someone told me she was picturing him wrapped up in a “God blanket.” I’m not super religious, but I have always loved that image – it felt very comforting. <3
Kirsten
August 24, 2015 @ 2:34 pm
I’m so glad to know you’re doing ok but so sad to hear about Elvis! I think we have the same lap sitting, drooling, wanting under the covers/pawing at you kitty (though mine is currently 17). Having gone through all of the necessary vet stuff to keep pets with me a bit longer and then going through the ultimate loss of my pet, I can truly understand how you feel. It is really the hardest and most painful thing I’ve felt. All I can offer is my sympathy and and my hopes for you two. I hope her chemo goes well and provides you with more time together. I hope soaking up every minute with Elvis will provide you with future comfort. Sending virtual hugs your way.
Katherine Sedgwick
August 24, 2015 @ 8:56 pm
Victoria, I am so very sorry to hear about Elvis’s illness. We lost our beloved black-and-white Manse Cat, Sieste, a few months ago. (https://atthemanse.wordpress.com/2015/05/12/the-manse-has-lost-its-manse-cat-our-dear-sieste/) She was just the best cat, just like Elvis, and our house is so empty without her; it is amazing how much of a presence one small feline can have in a big old house. (But you knew that.) Sieste’s illness and death happened quite suddenly, and often I wish we had had more time to spend with her and to say goodbye – time that you are blessed to have with Elvis. At the end of this week we are going to find us some new SPCA cats that need a good home, and I know they will take over our lives à la Sieste and Elvis, and we will love them dearly. But there’ll never be another Sieste. Or another Elvis. Please give her a kiss for me.
Nancy
August 24, 2015 @ 10:48 pm
This is the saddest post I have ever read. It makes me so sad for Elvis and you. Enjoy every moment you can with her.
Rita Olivia Lee
August 25, 2015 @ 6:32 am
This post made me so guilty. My nephew, who visited often adored our cat Mellow. One day, I wasn’t being vigilant about keeping her inside and she ran out a door. I didn’t go looking for her, since she usually came back. She never did return. SHe was eaten by a hawk or a coyote. Nephew threw himself on a bed and cried. Such horrible guilt. What was I thinking?
Love your blog. What do you and Paul do for a living?
Kay
August 25, 2015 @ 9:35 am
I’m so sorry. There are cats that one loves and then there is the one extra special cat, maybe only one in a lifetime. Elvis is that one for you. I lost my most special cat in 2003. There are no real words of comfort–the pain just has to be endured. Again, I am so sorry.
Jo
August 25, 2015 @ 10:26 am
I am so sad for you. I also have a tuxedo whom I love beyond words. I love the little black heart on Elvis’ lip.
Patty Soriano
August 25, 2015 @ 5:14 pm
Victoria, I found your blog on Miss Mustard Seed’s blogroll. Although you have over 250 comments about Elvis, I wanted to add my own. Many years ago a young orange cat came to our house at thanksgiving. I fed him leftovers, even though hubby said not to. I never listen to him. But I adore orange kitties. He became one of the outside kitty crew. I don’t know why, but he was special. Nothing remarkable except a snow white bib on his chest. He developed a spot on his nose and when it did not heal with medication he had a biopsy . He was diagnosed with a cancer that has too many syllables to count. Over the months his poor sweet little nose became something which looked very painful. Yet, it didn’t seem to cause him pain because he kept eating. Anyone who has ever had to put their pet, their family member, to sleep wonders when to make the decision. I decided that it would be when he stopped eating. I stayed by his side when they sedated him, wanting his last sight to be of someone who loved him enough to be there. I hope your sweet body-warmer will yet have a long life with the one who loves him most. Thank you for allowing me to tell you about Charlie. I knew you would understand my love for him.
Becky @ Flipping the Flip
August 25, 2015 @ 9:01 pm
I am so incredibly sorry. Having recently gone through this myself, I understand your deep feelings and your incredible sorrow. Thank you for sharing as it helps not only yourself, but others as well. Words can seem trite in times like this, but I do wish you all the best.
Carrie
August 26, 2015 @ 2:51 pm
I’m sorry about your cat. 🙁 I love her little heart shaped birthmark.
Liz C
August 26, 2015 @ 4:02 pm
Oh, lady, I am so very sorry – you have every right to be sad, and how lovely that you have her for just that little bit longer to love and drool upon you and be your friend. Have been through this and it sucks, sucks, SUCKS. All our love from our house to yours.
Sharon Stone
August 27, 2015 @ 8:12 am
So sorry for this sad news. We loved our critters so very much.
kisses to you all
Robyn Watt
August 27, 2015 @ 3:45 pm
Hi Victoria I was so sorry to read this post. I had a tuxedo that looks just like your Elvis. His name was Olie and I loved him dearly. He was mean to everybody else, but I bottle fed him and he truly was my baby. He died 2 years ago and I miss him terribly. My remaining cat Cammie drools just like Elvis! I call her “Kang” like the drooling alien on The Simpsons. I know how hard this is but try not to be sad, you love Elvis and have given her a beautiful life, which is all that anyone can ask in life, to be loved and love in return. Your memories will live on and someday, will bring you happiness, and not so much sadness. It gets better with time. Enjoy these precious times with her. Thinking of you and your family during this stressful time. Robyn
Beth
August 27, 2015 @ 6:46 pm
I am so sorry. My kitty when I was growing up sounds like Elvis. We used to sleep together with my arm around her middle. We were spooning before I knew it was a thing :). What a wonderful thing to have such a kitty cat. Wishing you and Elvis more sweet times together. Beth
Paula
August 28, 2015 @ 11:02 pm
I know exactly how you feel. EXACTLY. We’ve had 5 greyhounds and one Pharaoh Hound die from cancer and it sucks. Our Pharaoh Hound was the only one with a cancer that was treatable – he had lymphoma while the greys all had bone cancer and died within a day to a week. He had 6 months of weekly chemo and did fantastic. Then, the beast returned after just 5 months of remission. We started chemo again, but after 3 treatments it wasn’t working. He lived another 2 wonderful months. We don’t have children and our dogs are our life. It’s the worse thing in the world when they die and the pain is unbearable. The one thing I tell everyone who asks “how do you know when it’s time?” is it’s better to do it one week too soon than wait one day too late.
I pray that Elvis has a nice, long life ahead of her with you. She’s a lucky little girl to be part of your family.
Maureen
August 28, 2015 @ 11:26 pm
Elvis is such a wonderful, beautiful creature. I especially love black and white kitties. I will keep you all in my thoughts.
Cherolyn Bright
August 29, 2015 @ 9:48 pm
I am sad for you and understand your pain. Their lives are brief, but having them in ours is worth everything. Stay strong. Sending love and light.
olive yotes
August 31, 2015 @ 2:13 pm
SO SORRY ABOUT your ELVIS!!! Cats can get stomach cancer from licking their fur and swallowing clay dust from their litter. Clay dust is carcinogenic and gets in the air too. When I read that I freaked out because that would mean WE could be breathing that stuff and get adult onset asthma. I switched to pine litter, my favorite is Ecopine.com because its organic. Wood has some natural antibacterial odor killing aspect to it.
steven j
August 31, 2015 @ 2:14 pm
SO SORRY ABOUT your ELVIS!!! Cats can get stomach cancer from licking their fur and swallowing clay dust from their litter. Clay dust is carcinogenic and gets in the air too. When I read that I freaked out because that would mean WE could be breathing that stuff and get adult onset asthma. I switched to pine litter, my favorite is Ecopine.com because its organic. Wood has some natural antibacterial odor killing aspect to it.
fotoliberte
September 1, 2015 @ 2:44 pm
Those who have shared their lives and love with pets; cat, dogs or others can identify with your tears and grief. When the time comes and one must be strong and keep the commitment made when accepting this incredible responsibility, the love that you have shared will be what keeps you. Your tears are felt across the land by your many followers and friends who can only pray for you to have peace.
The poet once said, “The misery of keeping a dog (or a pet) is his dying so soon. But, to be sure, if he lived for fifty years and then died, what would become of me?” ~Walter Scott