Hi Everyone,

I immediately picked up Cerenia from the vet the day after my last update, cut and smashed the pill, and put it in her feeding syringe with the supplements I bought.

I also tried to interest her baby food, broth, an assortment of other supplements, everything. She is not interested in eating even when the nausea and gagging stop due to the Cerenia.

Although she held down the supplements, after four days of force-feeding her, she still wasn't getting stronger or showing any interest in food, and she absolutely hated it.

By Sunday, she'd become afraid of me -- and my hands. She's never in her life run away from me before (except when she was only one month old when I adopted her.)

She ran into the corner, deep under the bed, and sat with her back to me. Then, she gave me a horrid look back over her shoulder. I knew then. Syringe feeding was just torturing her. She wasn't getting better at all. She was miserable. 

So I accepted it and stopped. Every day, I place little bowls by her private water fountain near her Hidey Hole. Just in case a miracle happens, she has food and can reach it easily. She has a cuddly, quiet place to be.

Today, I played Baroque Adagios. I carried her to her favorite place in the sun until it moved across the window. 

I am not going to have her euthanized. I'm not going to torture her with any more butchery, needles, or strangers in white coats that prick and prod her. The poor thing is so thirsty but can't drink. I'm not going to put a tube in her stomach to keep her body alive if cancer is devouring her. 

I've got her trust back from the syringe-feeding fear. I spent a lot of time with Kuri today, gently caressing her head. But I can tell she is in pain. So, even though she hates syringes, I'm going to give her Gabapentin tonight, which was left over from surgery. Maybe she can keep some down or at least absorb it sublingually. 

I don't want her to suffer. 

This has gone on for two months now. She has shown no signs of recovering from the initial surgery. Her hair never even grew back. She's become a humpbacked, miserable, twisted version of her former self. She never regained strength. Her back legs are weak and wobbly. Her eye is dripping dark, really sticky goo. She's just miserable. I feel so bad.

They told me if it was OsteoSarcoma, the stats are maybe 50/50 or 40/60. I knew there was a risk. I also knew that my only option was to kill her if I didn't pursue the surgery. I had to take that shot. I had to believe we could be in the survival rate group. 

But I'm not an idiot. I watched my mom die of sarcoma. I know what's going on here.

I have a hard time holding the tears down. My heart feels like it is spilling all over the house. 

*Can anyone recommend better pain medicine for palliative care?*

I can pick it up tomorrow.

Thanks for being here. I appreciate you all. This is agonizing. But I guess this is a massive part of life.