I have been lucky

I have been doing poorly lately.

On Monday, Mom took me to see Dr. VanHeusan. He did more blood work up and took some x-rays. He was very nice and gentle.

The blood work up looked better than a month ago.

The x-rays did not.

Mom and Dad made an appointment for Tuesday to go see Dr. Becker, who is a specialist. They another exam and reviewed the x-rays. Dr. Becker also found a lump on my leg.

Mom and Dad left me with Dr. Becker at the hospital. They put an IV in to help me rehydrate. And they did some xrays of my leg and TWICE took cells from the lump in my leg to examine under the microscope. Dr. Becker felt that whatever the leg lump stuff was, could most likely be what's in my lungs and around my heart.

After they examined the cells--Dr. Becker called mom.

It is cancer.

Mom and Dad are picking me up from the hospital today.

Today is Dad's birthday and I want to be there for him. I love him very much. And I know he loves me.

This is going to be hard. Kitty cancer (as Jon noted) is not something that the universe should allow . . . yet there are lots of things in the universe that aren't fair.

I'm only 7 . . . almost 8 years old. And that may seem too young for cancer and too young to deal with all this heavy stuff.

But I know that it's also 7, almost 8 years I almost didn't have. My mom died in a housefire, trying to rescue me and my siblings. I was so very young--nearly newborn, that I don't remember her. I know of her from what the Vet's office and my new mom and dad have told me.

I was lucky to be rescued by the firemen.

I was lucky that one of the fireman's moms worked at a vet clinic and she was able to nurse me to health, feeding me with an eye dropper.

I was lucky to pick my new mom and dad when they were in the waiting room, worried about Chester.

I was lucky to live in this home . . . with Tiger and Chester as brothers. With Jon and Jim as brothers. I was lucky to have mom--who babies me and helps me blog . . .

I was lucky to have my dad, whom I love so very much.

We could be there for each other over the years.

I know that you're going to miss me dad.

I'm so sorry that it's going to hurt for awhile.

Dr. Pillow says it will be like a hole in your heart--something missing that will always be missing. I'm sorry for that.

But I don't regret loving you or being loved.

I know that you have done everything anyone could do to make me happy, healthy, loved and cared for.

While I am not gone yet . . . I think this will be my last blog. Unless a miracle happens (which becomes more and more of a long shot every day) there really isn't a lot more to say.

I love you all.

I am sorry to make you sad, yet if you didn't feel sad, then it wouldn't be love. I wouldn't be remembered.

When the sadness eases a bit. . . . remember me for what I am and always was . . . the best cat in the world.

We have had some really good times.

Remember those when you think of me.