The Latest From AngelaHoy.com

Many of you have been tracking Blotch’s progress since we learned he had an aggressive tumor (fibrosarcoma) in the sinuses above his left eye.

Last Friday, I noticed something inside Blotch’s left nostril and, by Sunday, it appeared to have made significant progress toward the opening. I realized it was probably the tumor.

The doc told us that the tumor might break through and reach his brain, but we never thought it would grow the other way. I hoped the children wouldn’t notice it, but Ali did and was distraught that she could actually see what was killing her best friend.

On Saturday, Blotch’s condition started to decline dramatically. I called the vet and sent Zach to pick up more medication for him. We’d planned to take him in on Monday to have the vet evaluate his condition. It was looking very grim by Saturday night and, on Sunday, Blotch started making hack/cough/wheeze sounds when he was eating. He’d made that sound in the previous week or so, but it was coming more frequently and more severely. It was painful to watch and we knew that Blotch was fighting for every breath during those horrible episodes.

On Sunday night, around 11:30, Blotch was standing by the pantry, wanting his kitty treats. I put some on the floor for him and, when he bent his head down to eat them, he started to make a repetitious, odd sound and his body was shaking. It sounded like a turkey gobbling, of all things. I pushed his head back, thinking the position of his head, leaning down, was causing him to have a seizure, which the vet warned us might happen.

The sound and shaking stopped and he ate his treats. However, when he finished and turned around, it happened again. I ran upstairs and told Richard I thought Blotch was having seizures. I then called the emergency vet and explained what happened and they said it didn’t sound like a seizure, but was probably just Blotch’s reaction to pain or discomfort.

Ali and I agreed that Blotch had reached a point where it seemed, to us, that his bad moments were now outweighing his good ones. We knew we’d have to take him to the vet the following morning and let him go. Ali cried off and on and finally fell asleep. I tried to sleep but couldn’t because I was crying so hard. I got up several times because I was so miserable, so confused, wondering if we’d made the right decision.

It was raining outside, complementing the mood in our grieving home. Lying in bed, sobbing, I heard a thump. The wind blew over our plastic Santa and I had to go out in the rain and bring him indoors. When I came back in, it was around 2:30 a.m. and I noticed Blotch was sleeping in his favorite winter spot, directly over the heater vent in the downstairs front hallway. Blotch could no longer walk up the stairs by himself and could barely even make it down the stairs because he was so weak and uncomfortable. I’d watched him try to come down the stairs earlier that evening and he’d stopped after only the first stair to rest. I wanted Blotch near us that night, but I knew he wanted to sleep in his favorite spot. So, I patted him, told him I loved him, and went back to bed.

I did finally fall asleep, only after praying fervently, desperately begging God to send me a sign that what we were planning to do the next morning was the right thing. And, God delivered, with a little help from Blotch.

I dreamed that it was nighttime. It was very dark and I was alone, running down a long sidewalk, carrying Blotch to the vet. Blotch was like a threadbare rag doll and pieces of him were falling off, one after another. I was trying to hold him together while running, desperate to get to the vet before they closed, desperate to have them quickly end Blotch’s suffering. But, when I arrived, they were closed. I was all alone on a dark sidewalk, holding what was left of Blotch. When I looked down, I realized he was already dead. Oddly, his head had fallen off, too, but I still had his heart in my hand and I pushed it back into what was left of his body, wrapped his body in my coat and turned around, relieved that it was finally over but so sad that Blotch had suffered so horribly. That’s when I woke up.

I sat upright and looked at the clock (something people with chronic insomnia do alot). It was 4:00 a.m. That’s when I noticed a weight on my legs. I looked down and started sobbing. Blotch was lying on my legs, sound asleep, curled up in a ball with his head upsidedown, his favorite sleeping position. Not only had Blotch been able to climb the stairs all by himself, which he hadn’t been able to do since his illness got so severe, but he’d also managed to jump up on our bed! Either Blotch performed this miracle, or God picked him up and put him in our bed, on my legs, his favorite place to sleep on our bed. Either scenario was a miracle in itself. I started sobbing when I realized that God had given me the sign I’d so desperately begged him for! My sobs woke up Richard and I told him what had happened.

God and Blotch told me, through my dream, that I needed to help Blotch go to heaven before it was too late and too painful. He’d been, physically, falling to pieces before our eyes all weekend. It was time and I had to get him there as quickly as possible because he needed to be free from the pain. He was tired of struggling for every breath, tired of us constantly wiping his already raw nose, tired of not being able to walk where he wanted to walk, and tired of the needles and medicine. He was just…tired. Blotch was ready to go home.

People told me that Blotch would tell us when it was time. They were right, and Blotch’s message was loud and clear.

I called the vet at 7:30 a.m. and they told us to bring him in at 9:30. At 9:10, Blotch was standing by the backdoor. Did he know? I let him outside. He walked over to the garden and Ali followed him while I grabbed my coat. Ali picked him up and wrapped him in his favorite fleece blankie, and we took him for his last car ride. Blotch laid in Ali’s arms, not fighting the car ride, not struggling to get out of her arms like he used to do in the car…just content to lie there and be scratched and petted. Did he know? We arrived at the vet and they put us in a room. Ali and I started crying again, telling Blotch it was okay…to go to the light when he saw it. I saw my Aunt Barbara standing by the sink there, with her hands on her hips, smiling, waiting to take Blotch from us. My Aunt Barbara died last June.

I saw a flash of light on the wall, and then another, right behind Ali, who was sitting in a chair, cradling Blotch on her lap. I told Ali about the lights. She knew what they were and she smiled. Blotch was lying so still, so relaxed, so…accepting? Did he know? The vet gave Blotch a small shot, a sedative. Blotch didn’t even flinch when the needle went in. He relaxed more and started snoring soundly, like he’s done since he got sick, a soft, rhythmic rumble…a sound that has told us, during Blotch’s illness, that we needed to be quiet. It was Blotch’s time to rest.

The vet then gave Blotch another shot that calmly and almost instantly stopped his heart. At that moment, I saw an explosion of flashing lights behind Ali and I knew that everybody who loved Blotch who had already passed over had come for him, to show him the way home. The lights disappeared as quickly as they’d come and Blotch went with them, no longer struggling for every breath, no longer fighting to stay with us just because we selfishly didn’t want him to go. We had finally let him go….and Blotch peacefully and silently returned home.

SPECIAL REQUEST! Ali and I received hundreds of emails today from wonderful, loving people who wanted to express their condolences about Blotch. We will personally reply to all those who have written, but, if you haven’t written to us about it, please instead just say a small prayer for Ali (she’s still grieving badly) and/or for Blotch. We’re buried in emails so please, if you love us, don’t send us anymore.

It’s going to take the better part of a couple of days to respond to those who have written and we’re very busy not only with work and school, but also getting ready for Richard’s 84-year-old grandmother to come visit for a month. She’s in very poor health and we’re making special accomodations for her here at home.

We deeply appreciate everyone’s prayers and warm notes. They have all made this horribly painful period in our lives just a bit more bearable.

Hugs!
Angela

Trying to get an early start on the holiday preparations, we put up some of our Christmas decorations last Sunday. Max doesn’t remember Christmas from last year (he turned three in September) so we’ve been having fun reminding him about the season. He seemed to understand the “Santa” concept and even said he’s going to ask Santa for a new train.

We were at the mall last Friday and Santa was already there! But, when Max saw him, he changed his mind about asking Santa for any toys. He refused to go anywhere near that big jolly guy dressed in red. Can’t say I blame him.

We’re having our traditional Thanksgiving feast here at home and then having dessert at a friend’s house. That will be fun.

We wish all our U.S. readers a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday this week! And, we wish everyone else a wonderful, warm week as well!

BLOTCH UPDATE: As most of you know, we were devastated to learn that Blotch has a large tumor in his sinus cavity above his left eye. We have chosen to give him hospice care at home so that he’ll live out his remaining days in comfort and surrounded by cuddles and love.

The good news is that Blotch is quite chipper and is not only eating on his own again, but is drinking, too!

I POSTED more photos of Blotch on Dec. 19th. Click HERE (for Max and his buddy) and HERE (to see Blotch’s funny napping position).

Hugs to all!
Ang

We’ve received word that Blotch has an aggressive tumor in his left sinus. Vet #2 (the one who did the exploratory surgery) thought Blotch was a “reasonable candidate” for surgery and radiation. It’s a very invasive surgery and, after doing some research and talking to Blotch’s primary vet (Vet #1), we feel that Vet #2 didn’t give us all the facts. The facts are that the tumor will likely return, not within years, but within only months. So, at that time, Blotch would have to start all over with the pain and illness again. Blotch would be put through severe pain (Vet #2 left that part out when talking about the surgery) and might not even survive the surgery. We’d have had to transport Blotch to Massachusetts for radiation and he’d either have to have it daily for 3 weeks (we’d have had to leave him there) or once every 3 weeks for 9 weeks. Driving him 10 hours round-trip for this would be, in our opinion – and in the dead of winter, torture for Blotch, on top of the lingering pain he’d have from the surgery.

I had nose surgery (to fix a broken nose) when I was 18 and it involved my sinuses and the pain I had was bad and was non-stop for 6 straight weeks. It was so bad that, when the surgeon admitted he’d messed up on my nose and wanted to fix it again, I said no way. I wasn’t going through that pain again. And, now perhaps I know why I went through that…maybe so I’d know to say no when our kitty was faced with that possibility.

I cried most of last night and plenty more this morning. This afternoon, I told Richard I was on “system shutdown.” I just couldn’t take it anymore. (I’ve lost 14 lbs since learning he’s sick and haven’t gotten much sleep at all.)

My first reaction was that the pain was just too great. I wanted it done and over with as soon as possible, once we decided that surgery was not an option. But, I couldn’t make the final decision, so I asked Richard to make it for me. (Ali also didn’t want to make the decision.) Richard agreed, got up this morning, and made an appointment to have Blotch put to sleep. I knew Richard would be far more reasonable and would look at things from Blotch’s point of view…while Ali and I were running on 110% emotion.

I got up after he’d called the vet and told him I’d changed my mind. I was watching Blotch sleeping on Ali’s stomach last night and watching him this morning as he watched Max play in his room and I realized that he’s still active, he’s still very alert, and he seems happy. In fact, if he didn’t have such a stuffy nose, you’d probably not even know he’s sick. Maybe my decision last night had been too hasty and made in a panic. However, I was also concerned that daily injections and needing to feed him vitamin gel was cruel, but Blotch just seemed too healthy to put him down just yet.

So, Richard called the vet back and, at my request, made an appointment for this afternoon to have the vet check Blotch and tell us, in her opinion, how healthy he is at this point and what his quality of life is right now.

Richard and Ali took Blotch in (I sent a note for the vet with questions because I cry whenever I talk about the situation) and they returned with good news.

Considering Blotch’s illness, the vet says he’s in very good shape. He’s happy, active, and interacting with us. Continuing his medicine at home is, in her opinion, not cruel, but in fact keeps him feeling better (hydrated and not hungry and less stuffy). She gave us signs to look for to indicate when he’s starting to go downhill.

Blotch is dying and we have faced that fact. He may live for a few days or a few weeks but probably not six months. He’ll let us know if he’s in pain or if he’s not having fun anymore. At that time, we will take him in and let him go.

I somehow thought, last night, that not knowing when Blotch would die, but knowing he was dying, was something I just couldn’t endure. But, I was wrong. After about 24 hours of frantic weeping and grief and worry and doubt if we were doing the right thing, I feel a tremendous sense of peace this evening. I can handle knowing Blotch is dying, but not knowing when. I am very happy to let Blotch tell us when he’s ready. I’m so thankful that we didn’t make a hasty decision to put him down immediately, without thinking about what guilt that might create later if we later thought maybe Blotch hadn’t been ready and we’d done it too quickly. Blotch is just far too alive right now to put down.

I just finished feeding Blotch his vitamin paste and he’s resting comfortably now. Today, he ate for the first time in a week. It wasn’t cat food – it was grass. Ali let him go outside this afternoon (which he hasn’t been able to do since getting sick) and he started eating his “salad.” Maybe cat food is next…maybe not. We’re not going to push him to do anything he doesn’t want to do. We’re just going to let Blotch do what he wants to do. We’re not going to stop him from going outside (fearing he might not return) and we’re not going to force him to spend his time only in Ali’s room, (fearing he might disappear into a closet or corner somewhere). We’re going to let him decide what he wants to do. And, when he’s ready to go to heaven, we’ll help him get there with as little discomfort as possible.