Many years ago I still lived at home with my parents and our family’s two cats.
One of these cats was a wise-acre named Max who loved to cause problems for my mom every step of the way,
whether she asked for it or not. And Max, despite being a very active and seemingly healthy cat came down
To set the stage, our family had been saving for a tip to Disney Land for over a year. We
had just enough to finally go and were in the final stages of full-blown vacation plans. All we needed to do
was officially book everything and in two weeks our vacation would start. It was at this time that Max
decided to stop acting like himself and began hiding.
Now, Max is the sort of kitty who loves to be in the center of attention. Sometimes he’ll
just sit in the hallway away from the living room and start caterwauling, just to make someone come follow
him and realize that he’d like to be petted at that exact moment. The biggest warning sign that something
seriously wrong was when we found Max hiding himself off in a corner of my parent’s room, looking distressed
and uneasy. A trip to the vet confirmed to us that he had a softball-size blockage in his stomach that
needed to be removed, or else Max would die.
We weren’t entirely sure what the blockage was, but the vet told us that it was most
certainly a tumor, though whether cancerous or not could only be determined after it was removed. The
procedure, while relatively risk-free, wasn’t going to come cheap. It would cost, ironically, about as much
as a trip for four to Disney Land.
Worse still was the knowledge that if the tumor was indeed cancerous, Max’s life
expectancy would be slashed dramatically. So, we had to decide. Do we go to Disney Land and let our cat die,
or give up the trip on the chance that our cat would live a few more months? We opted for surgery, which did
in deed confirm that the tumor was cancerous. Max was given chemotherapy pills and given a prognosis of six
months to a year left to live, at most.
One year later we took Max in for a check up with the same veterinarian that had performed
the surgery. When we first brought Max in, the vet didn’t look very hopeful at all. His time, however, the
vet believed we have brought in a different cat. “This isn’t the same cat,” he told us. “This cat has
absolutely no signs of every having cancer.” Suddenly that one-year life expectancy changed to two, then
three, and now nearly 10 years later, Max is still doing just fine.
Our family was never quite sure what made Max obliterate the cancer inside of his body.
One theory we have ties in with his favorite spot in the house to sleep: Right on top of the digital cable
box over the TV. We figured that perhaps the radiation from the cable box did something that cured him, if
it didn’t give him the tumor in the first place of course. Our other theories all boil down to spite as Max
is the type of cat that would absolutely get cancer just to get us to pay attention to him over heading to
Let Max be a lesson to you out there. It’s no promise, but there’s always hope. Sometimes
cats pass on, and some times they keep right on living for no good reason. Let’s hope you’ll have a cat like
Max in the future!
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