Three awful words. Transitional Cell Carcinoma. That’s the preliminary diagnosis from our veterinarian we heard today. For those of you who follow my twitters, my note from Sunday night about one of our cats having an accident on our bed has filled my worst fears. My 18-year-companion, who’s probably 20 years old at this point based on his adoption info from the shelter when he and his sister picked me to take them home, apparently has cancer of the bladder. We’ll have a biopsy in a few days, and will likely have a pretty tough decision to make. I will not let my buddy suffer, however. He’s been too good a friend over all these years.
Chaos (and his sister Havoc) are named for the memorable companions of Haviland Tuf, gregarious protagonist of the fantastic novel Tuf Voyaging by George R.R. Martin. The book recounts the interstellar travels of reputedly one of the only honest space merchants in the galaxy, and the benign and socially beneficient uses to which he puts an ancient Earth Ecological Corps Seedship, possesing genetic engineering and cloning powers. If I recall (and I’ll be rereading the novel soon I expect to keep Chaos in my thoughts), when one of his beloved companions dies he turns to these systems to bring back his old friend, but then thinks better of it.
I will miss my dear friend, and dread the next several days as we cope with this unhappy turn of events. But it’s important to me to think about what’s best for Chaos, and be sure he enjoys these last days of his life.
No genetic engineering for him – just a good scratch around the ears should do.