A Time to Cry in Packrat

My cat has cancer. Not being able to use one of my hands, I haven’t picked her up and cradled her for about two and a half months and finally did last week - only to find growths on her stomach. She has been normal, eating well, jumping, eliminating, so I didn’t know anything was wrong. Before the bite, I could hold her and her stomach was fine.

I found the growths after 10 p.m. I took her to my vet first thing in the morning, but the receptionist said I hadn’t made an appointment!!! The vet was out on a farm call. I took her to the neighboring town’s vet, whose receptionist was much kinder and soothing but who himself was out on a farm call. Since my cat was acting so normal, the receptionist said, her situation was likely not dire, and I could bring her back.

On my way to take her home, I couldn’t give up on taking her to a doctor and didn’t want to wait, so I called the vet of the town I work in. The receptionist there said they were swamped, but I was crying so hard by then she worked me in.

The vet felt around and said the cancer had already spread throughout her body, that it was very aggressive if her stomach was fine just three months ago. He gave her two shots, saying they may or may not help with reducing the growths, which are ugly but not causing her any pain. During her examination she lay quietly and purred - so much that he couldn’t listen to her heart.

The shots helped in that she is like her old self and lively and curious; she gained weight and slowed down after being fixed, and now it seems like she’s back. I’ll bring her to work with me tomorrow, so she can get another shot (one lasts a month, the other a week).

I hate to lose her like this. She’s so sweet natured and nurturing to all the other cats. The dogs got a hold of her when she was a feral kitten and ripped her leg open; I thought she was going to die. I set her by her mother, who wandered away, and she tried to follow her, so I brought her into the house for a chance to live and nursed her back to health. She’s 12 years old now.

The vet told me not to beat myself up over missing any symptoms, as there was really nothing I could catch; the cancer didn’t start with the growths. I still wonder, anyway, because I have other cats, but she was so normal - good appetite, even on the day she went to the vet, being active, etc.

I’m trying to think of what else I could do for her. Right now I cry a lot, when she seems so nonchalant.

I don’t want to tell her good-bye, but I won’t keep her here to suffer, either. Right now she’s still enjoying life, and I want to enjoy her time she has left with me.