Here’s part two of my story. Thanks for reading. Flash forward to August of 2010 when we noticed something growing on Ellie May’s neck. We called her vet (my cousin the vet again.) And he told he would like to see her in the office. So we took her to the vet’s and the vet told us that they are tumors. (He said in cats they are trouble but in dogs not so much.) And that he can’t take them off but because of her age (she is seventeen and a half years old at this point.) She could die from the anesthesia. But because she had the insides of an eleven-year-old cat (very healthy for her age) she could come out just fine! So we went ahead with the surgery. Ellie May have to stay over night at the kitty hospital just for safety sake.
The next day we brought Ellie May home from the vets and her nurses told us she was a lady in the back there and ate her food like a good girl. I was pleased that my Ellie May was going to be ok. Fast-forward a few months later like in November. And we saw more things growing on her neck again. So back to the vet she went. He looked at her and told us I think it’s the end just make her comfy. At this point I cried like blubbering whale. My parents said to me, “this is the end and she will go down when too far along.” and I was like, “Ok. But if she dies I want to give her proper burial.” My parents said, “That’s fine. We have no problem with that.”
So the days go by and Ellie May starts to get more sores on her neck and chest, her fur on her chest is falling off, she’s starting to smell bad (pe-u!) and we have to give baths like every three days to keep the smell coming from her down somewhat, we put old towels on the places she lays cause her sores would get bigger, scab over, and then start to bleed (her chest was all reddish/brownish from the blood from the sores.), and stuff like that. So I got spend my last Christmas with my Ellie May and it was a good one!
Then comes January of 2011. We were taking down our Christmass tree (we had it half way at this point.) And we see Ellie May going under the tree in the corner and we were like, “Ellie May get out of there.” She ran out then we start to take more of the tree down when me and my dad start to smell something icky. We were like, “What’s that smell? Sniff, sniff, sniff, sniff . . . ” as we lean the tree to the side to see more, we see Ellie May numbered two-ed and we were like, “Aw, man Ellie May.” We cleaned it up knowing this was a sign that she had taken a turn for the worst.
She then starts lying in front of the heater under some shelves we have in the kitchen and only comes out for water. (Which is pawing from the water bowl so, I now have to give her own little dish of water.) It was heartbreaking. So then on the week of January 20th comes when my mom and dad sat me down and said to me, “we talked to the vet (my cousin) and we all think it’s time to put Ellie May down so on Thursday the 20th she will go down. We thought long and hard but now she is suffering and we want to end it so she can be ok.” I just sat there and cried like blubbering whale the rest of the week.
