She Didn't Poop in My Car!

Many know about it, but few have seen it.  It's an elusive creature.  Wiley, and always poised for quick escape.  Perhaps you've seen a flash of fur as it darts to safety.  Maybe you've even heard a "HISSSSSSSSS" or the stampede of tiny feet as it scurries under a piece of furniture.

But I love it.  And I know it well.  It's my cat.  Jo.

Anyway, Jo is 12 years and approximately 7 months old.  That's getting up there for a cat.  She's set in her ways.  And she's scared of EVERYTHING.  I am really the only person that can pick her up with relative ease.  She follows me around when I'm home.  She sits on me while I sleep.  And still, she runs from me sometimes.

Here are some of her favorite things to do:

Look out the window at birdies.

Completely ruin made beds and proudly sit atop her accomplishments.

Make nests in the covers of said ruined made beds.

So it should come as no surprise that being corralled and shoved into a cat carrier for a trip to see strangers at the vet ensures complete nervous breakdown.  And unfortunately, that typically manifests itself in the form of poop on the way there.  I got lucky today.  Lucky in that there was no poop.  She still peed all over herself.

I think her mood here is obvious.

Anyways, she made it home and is now furiously bathing the vet stench off of herself.

The thing about my Jo is....she has cancer, too.  Hers is a sarcoma, and it's on one of her back feet.  When she was first diagnosed, we were told that it only had a 10-15% chance of spreading (it's a very localized cancer).  We were also told that really the only way to get rid of it is to amputate her foot.  What a horrid idea!  In any case, we decided that the small chance of spreading plus the fact that it never bothers her was not a good enough reason to chop her foot off.  So on with life we went.

Well, today I learn that (disclaimer-this is gross) as the stupid lump grows (which it is) that it might like....POP.  Bottom line is, we've got a decision to make.  Take our chances (and her chances) of POPPING and just let her live her life until it seems to be a problem for her, or have a 3-legged cat?

This 3-legged cat I found via Google search looks pretty happy, right??

Decisions, decisions.  Decisions that I kind of don't want to make.