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.
August 18, 2015 @ 3:57 pm
She is beautiful. They never really leave us, you know. And I am convinced that they come back too. I lost two older cats in the last couple of years. While I still miss them, I know they’re around in spirit. Also, a new kitten that found us has turned into the physical and behavioral twin of a cat that passed a few years back. Enjoy the love. Elvis is a gift to you forever, and she’ll never really leave you.
August 18, 2015 @ 4:01 pm
I’m so very sorry for your baby… I wish you all the best and that Elvis has many more years of happiness and joy with his mamma sending hugs your way <3
August 18, 2015 @ 4:05 pm
Those pictures make me miss my kitty of 18 1/2 years that passed away over a year ago. I love cats, always have. Pet loss is difficult. So many of us have been there and it sucks so bad. Hugs to you and yours and give a big scratch under that kitty chin. She is a beauty and she knows how loved she really is and that is all that matters.
August 18, 2015 @ 4:21 pm
Oh, Victoria – I’m so sorry! I know how you feel about Elvis and understand what you’re saying. Give Elvis lots of love and hugs. If you need anything, please let me know. xoxo
August 18, 2015 @ 4:23 pm
Dear Victoria,
I’m so sorry that your sweet Elvis is ill. It is never fun knowing that we will be forced to say goodbye to our best furry friends…
I still miss our sweet Golden, Skeeter.
I hope he lives for a long time to come. 🙂
August 18, 2015 @ 4:40 pm
I am heartbroken for you. These angels are on loan to us for such a short time! Savor all the moments. Hugs, hugs, and more hugs!
August 18, 2015 @ 4:47 pm
well, that just stinks, doesn’t it. I am very sorry to hear it.
but, where you say, above, “Elvis visits an oncologist and she said . . .”, made me think that Elvis was saying something, and I was so disappointed when it was not Elvis who was telling everybody something. Sigh. Because that would have been awesome. And so like a cat that has taken up with you and loves you and Mr. VEB and who is loved by you.
August 18, 2015 @ 4:51 pm
My sister’s dog has cancer in his snout and it will also be terminal. All I can say is that I am so sorry.
“These animals” are the very best friends and family that we humans could ever ask for. It is a special miracle that they gift us their love and affection for the short time they grace this earth. It is heart wrenching and awful when it is time for them to go.
Please remember that she has an exceptionally happy life with you. A happy life is such a precious thing for anyone to have.
August 18, 2015 @ 4:53 pm
My beloved Noodles recently passed away from exactly this. Two bits of advice: 1) when chemo stops seeming to work and the bad days get worse, acupuncture often gave him a bit of a bounce. It was low stress for him (since our kitty acupuncturist came to our house) 2) internal bleeding is so very common in this illness and it was recommended that we try to feed Boodles liver and bone marrow. He particularly liked chicken livers. I felt it was medicinal and helped his quality of life. I’m so sorry about Elvis. I know what you’re going through.
August 18, 2015 @ 5:00 pm
The Rainbow Bridge
Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge. When an animal dies
that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together.
There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm
and comfortable. All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health
and vigour; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again,
just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.
The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.
They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and
looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers.
Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs
carrying him faster and faster. You have been spotted, and when you and your
special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again.
The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head,
and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your
life but never absent from your heart.
Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together
– Unknown
August 18, 2015 @ 5:33 pm
Victoria, what a hearfelt post you have written on sweet Elvis and your love for her. Our pets become part of our families and their unconditional love remain with us always. I too am also facing my beloved Marcy’s final days with a heavy heart but am reminded daily of the joy we have been blessed with the 15 1/2 years we have had her. May you have many more joyful days together. Blessings to you all.
August 18, 2015 @ 5:48 pm
I am sad with you! Been through same thing and the hurt tears right through you. Sending you both hugs and hoping for lots of good days for sweet Elvis. Take lots of pictures on the good days.
August 18, 2015 @ 6:35 pm
I was wondering why you hadn’t posted for a while. I’m so sorry abou Elvis. I love your blog-utterly charming. And hysterically funny.
Best regards at this difficult time.
August 18, 2015 @ 6:37 pm
I am so sorry to hear this. This is a quote that a friend sent me recently when I lost my six year old welsh corgi. XOXO
“There is a cycle of love and death that shapes the lives of those who choose to travel in the company of animals. It is a cycle unlike any other. To those who have never lived through its turnings or walked its rocky path, our willingness to give our hearts with full knowledge that they will be broken seems incomprehensible. Only we know how small a price we pay for what we receive; our grief, no matter how powerful it may be, is an insufficient measure of the joy we have been given.”
—Suzanne Clothier, “Bones Would Rain from the Sky”
August 18, 2015 @ 6:44 pm
I’m sorry you are going through this. I had a long haired black half Siamese (not the squashy faced things). She was a petite little girl, and full of beans. We rescued her from a pet store where she wasn’t doing well and babied her. Once she was well, she would go hunting down in the basement…and brought us some strange things. We would hear her meow loudly in the hall outside the bedroom doors, and go out to find her prey and praise her. She brought cellophane, string, the tail from my daughters mermaid doll…once she was coming up the stairs with something but her meow sounded funny. She was carrying a styrofoam cup, and it was covering her face! She liked to look for spiders in the corners of the ceiling, and would meow until you lifted her up so she could lightly touch it with her paw and make it drop to the floor…then she had no use for you. Once my son was whining, half joking, “nobody loves me, only Solomon “. She was curled up in his top bunk watching him, and when he went to bury his face on her fur, she bit him(lightly) on the nose! She always slept on my bed at the new house. She was my little ewe lamb…like a baby to me. I understand where you are at…love up your baby and make him happy as long as you can. I’m sorry for your sadness.
August 18, 2015 @ 6:50 pm
Thinking of you and Elvis and sending you hugs. You did a very good job of explaining her personality and she sounds lovely and loving. When going through the tough times with our pets, I always wonder why we do it again and again, but I really can’t imagine our family would be complete without the little heart beats around us (right now our human family of 4 has 2 dogs and 3 cats – plenty of heart beats in this crazy house lol).
August 18, 2015 @ 6:52 pm
I am so sorry that Elvis is so very close to home. I have a little dog who brings out these same feelings in me, and one of the worst thoughts ever is about his own life span not being forever right here with me. It’s a bit of a comfort to me to know we are all just walking each other home. Whoever gets there first will surely leave a light glowing in the window.
xo
August 18, 2015 @ 6:53 pm
I’m so sorry about Elvis. It is always hard to lose pets.
August 18, 2015 @ 7:04 pm
Well, crap… I hate this, for you and for Elvis. Please feel free to go back into your sadness cave whenever you need to and for as long as you need to be in there. No ‘splainin’ necessary. We’ll be here when you emerge. Wishing you many more drool-y, purry, kneading, love-sessions with your girl!
August 18, 2015 @ 7:10 pm
I’m so very, very sorry to hear this news of Elvis – I had been wondering where you were as I had missed not receiving your posts. Thinking of you and Elvis – the love you have for her shines through in your writing and brings tears to the eyes…