We found a little lump on our sweet little Zoe a few weeks ago. It was something the size of a grain of rice between her shoulder blades.
Over the next two weeks that little lump grew. Grew to the size of a lima bean. And another lump showed up on her hip.
On Friday En took her to the vet. They found three more lumps and took biopsies of them.
Today the results came in.
We were both hoping for the best but expecting the worse.
Unfortunately it was the worse.
Zoe has metastatic cancer. :’-(
We’re taking her to an oncologist tomorrow, but honestly I’m less than hopeful at this moment.
I have to think what I would think in her position — as a human. Let’s say I’m 70 and have metastatic cancer of god-knows-what. What would I want to do? Honestly I would say that in the general case I wouldn’t opt for therapy. The chance of success is minimal even if you’re an optimist, but the pain is very real. I can’t imagine putting a poor kitty through all that. It just seems selfish.
We’ll, hopefully, know more tomorrow.
– = –
Most cats pick an owner who they really bond to.
Zoe picked me.