Cherishing Every Moment We Have

Repost from my Spydersmom blog.

Our Frylie had surgery to remove a mast cell cancer tumor from his side. Due to the moderately high grade of the tumor at that time, we were told he would likely only survive about six more months. That was 22 months ago, and during the intervening gift of time with him, he's survived two more surgeries, one to remove a cancerous tumor on his toes and one to remove another mast cell tumor. The mast cell this last time, seven weeks ago, returned as very high grade and aggressive, but he had been doing surprisingly well. That is, until a few days ago when he began to have difficulty climbing steps. On his return visit to the veterinarian, Dr. Chris found what we'd all been dreading. It appeared another mast cell tumor had arisen, this time deep in the muscles of Fry's hip, and all signs point to this being terminal.

As our precious boy is already nearly 13 years old and becomes overwhelmingly anxious about hospitalization and painful infusions, we elected to forego chemotherapy, which would likely not give him much more in the way of time anyway and most probably not really improve his quality of life due to his extreme anxieties and fears of being in the hospital repeatedly for infusions.

So I'm sitting here typing this while trying to hold back tears and attempting to keep my sweet boy as comfortable as possible on his soft bed where he's resting at my feet. His current hospice care includes oral medications to relieve his discomfort and anxiety, and we've removed the legs from basically all our furniture so he doesn't have to climb up to get on the couch or bed. His appetite is decreased, but he is still eating and drinking, and his bathroom habits continue to be normal. And as he still seems to enjoy going for occasional very short, slow, easy walks in the neighborhood, we don't believe it's time yet, but deep in my heart I fear he's not much longer for this world.

If you're reading this, please light a candle for our precious Frylie. He's been the light of our lives for the past 12 years, and we continue to treasure every single moment we have remaining with him as a gift so precious it's impossible to deserve. This kind, humble soul with the biggest, softest heart and sweetest eyes, is the very embodiment of joy and gentleness. We will be with him through to the very end, and when that time finally arrives will give him the final gift of being with him as he transitions across the Rainbow Bridge.