My cat might have cancer.
He’s got growths in his ear. I know he’d been looked over less than a year ago and they didn’t find such a thing.
He’s an old cat so maybe it’s just age; I don’t attribute this to anything related to Phil’s experiences. I just hope it’s not cancer, or that it’s still treatable at this stage if it is.
I don’t know what losing him at this time in my life would do to me. I’m still not right from everything I’ve had to deal with over the last 3 years (and this includes my memories of John’s life). He seems so healthy otherwise, still eating like a pig and not slowing down much despite his age (I still have trouble catching him). But I know he could go downhill fast. I’m going to try to get this taken care of while he still seems more or less healthy and maybe I can keep my friend a few more years.
I still feel bad for abandoning him to go to England when I was trying to find people and places that no longer existed or were no longer mine to return to, then abandoning him again when I lived six months in Las Vegas under my mother’s thumb making friends with the wrong kind of people and living recklessly. I’m done moving around and having my fun… I just want to settle down in a stable home here in Oregon, and I want my cat to be there when I’m finally set and I’ve made something of my life. I want an actual yard I can bury him in when we have to say goodbye… I don’t even know where I’d bury him if I lost him now, and I’d probably have to just let the vets incinerate him and I don’t want to do that! I feel like I owe it to him to keep him in the best health I can until the day we can all spend the rest of our lives somewhere comfortable.
I’ve been keeping this to myself for so long but this blog is my confessional… dammit, I’m sad and I’m scared. I’m not ready to lose my friend.