Thankful for Pets

Townhall.com ^ | November 24, 2016 | Mona Charen

[Kaslin]

Last Thanksgiving our family had two dogs and two cats. It's looking like not long after this holiday, we'll be down to two.

Teddy, a traffic-stoppingly gorgeous Keeshond, died in May. We name our dogs after presidents. Gipper was the first. A putative golden retriever, Gipper was so aggressive and stubborn -- not traits usually associated with the breed -- that we took him to a trainer for temperament testing (the kids were young then). They did their assessments and reported back. "Your dog is not vicious, he's just a little s---."

Not Teddy. Unfailingly sweet and biddable (he never put his teeth on another creature -- not even when he was bitten on the snout by a friend's 10-week-old puppy), we almost doubted his full canine credentials. No pack instincts? No resource guarding? No. The only time I ever heard him growl was when he was old and ailing from Cushing's disease. He was sustained every day by the confidence that someone might drop some chicken scraps or a stray meatball in his food dish. And it was perfectly fine if you didn't. He would still dance in circles when you gestured at the leash. That was Teddy.

Now Gilbert, one of the cats (his brother is Sullivan), has a mass on his jaw. We had the X-rays and biopsy on Monday and will get the results next week. I always feel a bit sheepish when I tell people about the various specialists we've consulted for our pets. "Took the cat for an MRI yesterday" sounds slightly absurd, even if you love animals.

Americans spent $15.4 billion on veterinary care in 2015 (only half of it by us). The average American spends more on pets annually than on alcohol, landline phones, or men's and boys' clothing. We spend more on veterinary care for our dogs than the average person spends for his own medical care in the Dominican Republic, Egypt, India and many other countries. Even knowing that we're a devoted nation of pet lovers, it's still surreal to visit the specialists' office and see the range of possibilities on the office wall -- cardiology, gastroenterology, ophthalmology, etc, etc. We'll need the oncologist soon.

Vets always speak of the "patient," rarely the dog or cat. When Gipper needed an ACL repair (oh, yeah, ka-ching), the doctor called to give me a progress report. The "patient" was in recovery and doing well. Then the orthopedist paused, coughed, and apologized, explaining, "I had a frog in my throat." Something made me say, "Not a patient, I hope."

The world is, apparently, divided between dog and cat people. I love both. Dogs are uncanny in their understanding of us and their delight in our company. But cats are just as devoted. They may not weep with joy when we return from a one-day absence, as our current golden, Cali (that's Coolidge), unfailingly does, but they curl up in your lap and purr like a living muff. Our cats adore people -- well, me -- and if they could they would spend roughly 23 and a half hours of every 24 right next to me.

Last week, I saw that the tip of Gilbert's tongue was sticking out of his mouth. At first, I thought it was just funny, and waited for him to notice and fix it. It's not normal for cats' tongues to extend out of their mouths when they're not eating, drinking or grooming. A few days later, he did it again. And then it seemed to be out all the time. Off to the vet, who found that he had a large mass on his jaw. His gums were bright red. She referred us to the oral surgeon, and now we await the biopsy results.

The oral surgeon didn't sugarcoat it. Some cancers are more aggressive than others, but even if a tumor is benign, it can do a lot of damage if it's in the wrong place (like the brain). The jaw is one of those places. The tumor is the size of an almond.

It's Thanksgiving. I'm so grateful that my human family members are healthy and thriving. I have friends who are struggling with illness, and it seems almost unseemly to be so sad about a cat. But feelings aren't logical. Gilbert was one of a pair of stray kittens we never meant to keep. Now, I only wish we could.

[exDemMom]

The guy I call “cancer kitty” is snuggling next to me on the sofa right now. Six years ago, my son discovered a mass on the cat’s thigh, and I knew immediately that it was a vaccine-associate sarcoma. (The sarcoma is not actually associated with vaccines, but with injections of any kind.)

The usual treatment for this sarcoma is amputation, but we wanted to save his leg. He has had two MRIs and four surgeries to remove tumors. He has lost a lot of muscle mass, but still has the leg. Sure, he’s gimpy—but he has survived a cancer that often kills cats within a year or two of diagnosis. He has not had a tumor recurrence for three years.

I have two other deathly ill kitties that I do not think will survive for many more months. I will miss them terribly.

[aomagrat]

Wink, my first greyhound at age 5 shortly after I adopted him. The best dog I ever had.

Wink at age 13, shortly before he passed away over 5 years ago. I still mourn.

[DeplorableUs]

I'm so thankful for my buddies. This is Hercules :)

[Slings and Arrows]

Thank you, G-d, for Zia, Deimos, and Misty.

[etabeta]

All our pets accompanied us to the Thanksgiving dinner at a relative’s. Hard to resist their pleading eyes at the table but each each a dinner with turkey, roasted carrots and peas..licked the plates clean. So sorry for those of you who recently lost their babies, we all know too well the pain.

[niteowl77]

We lost our cat buddy of sixteen years the night before Thanksgiving. She had been declining the last couple of years, and the process accelerated these past six months. Over the course of Wednesday she basically began to shut down, and by evening we had her put out of her pain.

She made me her favorite human in the world all of her life and a quarter of mine. You don't replace that.

Mr. niteowl77

[TheConservativeParty]

Aw! Wink knew what a lucky dog he was to be at your house. What a cutie! Great pictures.

[Ditter]

One of our JRT’s, Cookie, 10 years old appeared to have a swelling on the side of her face. The vet found 3 abscessed teeth and removed them, put her on antibiotics for a month. He said if the swelling doesn't go down bring her back. It didn't go down and the vet said she had a tumor under the facial bone. It was cancer and when she started walking around shaking her head from side to side I knew she was in pain. I had to put her down and even with 3 dogs still in the house, it seems quiet here. That was 5 months ago and I really miss her.