Somebody Up There Doesn't Like My Pets, or Me

Our cat, Saraki (aka Squeaky) has a cancerous tumor in her leg.

The last month and a half since Kuna-i's passing have been kind of a honeymoon period for us with our cat. We've been able to give her all kinds of attention and love, without the burden of a high-needs dog diverting all of our time and energy. She has responded by "luxuriating" and spending lots of time on laps, in beds, and/or in front of heat sources. It's been really nice. In this sense of newfound companionship, Sharon remarked to Squeaky a couple of days ago, "I hope you live a long, long time." That, unfortunately, was the morning of the day when Sharon discovered a large lump in her hind leg.

Still unknown as yet how advanced the condition is. The only thing we know for sure is that we're going to be out probably multiple thousands of dollars before the situation is resolved, for better or worse. With Kuna-i, there was always overriding knowledge that we were throwing money towards treatment of a dog that was declining and losing quality of life at a rate that would finally overtake our ability to keep up. With Saraki, there is really no debate: her quality of life has been pretty much top-notch. If there is a way to completely rid her body of this cancer, we've got to try. Doesn't mean we've got to love the expense of it, but simply that we've got to absorb it, somehow. Our first step is an appointment with an veterinary oncologist at the U of M early next week. Goodbye tax return.