For the third day in a row, Kiesha has been dry heaving and making those strange up-chuck then hoarse quack-squeak, with her stomach heaving up and nothing coming out. She hasn’t been looking good. Her coat quality has deteriorated. She is drinking water and using the litter box.

She hasn’t touched the dry food in a couple of days. I emptied it and put fresh food in there, but there still doesn’t seem to be anything eaten from it. The last time I saw her nose around in the food, she threw up two pieces of the dry food. It’s like she can’t swallow it so it comes back up. I think the tumor has gotten large enough that it has started interfering with her eating.

When I gave her wet food today, she immediately started licking it. She is so hungry and she can’t seem to eat anything. She licked t the food enthusiastically. She even took a few bites of the wet food. Even small bites of the pate caused problems for her. She would take a little bite and then stop, cough, half gag, lick her lips, and then lick the pate again.

When I was out running errands today, I tried to find types of wet cat food that would have a lot of gravy or juice that Kiesha can lick up and have some nourishment. I found two types of wet food (Iams and Friskies wet food in a pouch). The Iams is okay for ingredient quality. The Friskies isn’t any where near as nutritious as what she is used to. The idea is just to get some calories into her.

She eagerly licked at both bowls, lapped up the gravy. I felt very relieved that maybe I’d found something to help her. Except she started heaving again and nothing came up. Her breathing was labored, like she had a hard time catching her breath after the dry heaves.

She saw me come into the room and tried to purr. It is a pale echo of her loud, out-board-engine purr. It’s a whisper of a purr with a heavy rasp, like someone trying to purr but has smoked cigarettes for far too many years.

Instead of sleeping with me, she has been sleeping in hidey-holes. She sleeps in the closet, behind the closet door, next to the wall behind the book case, even under the bench at the end of the bed. This is all new behavior. Usually she sleeps with me and purrs. This morning and yesterday she wasn’t with me for most of the night.

I talked to Kiesha’s vet today. She said that as the tumor gets larger, it may interfere with breathing and eating. Tonight, Kiesha looked pretty miserable for the first time. I’ve known for the past week that something had changed for her. She’d hit the tipping point and we were going to have to do something soon.

Today she was so uncomfortable. I curled up next to her, loved on her, and cried. We’re going to the vet’s tomorrow for an evaluation. In my heart, I know it’s time but I don’t want it to be.

I woke up this morning to the sound of Kiesha trying to up-chuck right next to my ear. She was heaving and licking her lips but nothing was coming up. I put her on a floor and then put a paper towel under her, in case she did throw up something. Nothing came up. She made a gargling noise, coughed with a strange after noise that sounded like a hoarse duck.

She continued to heave, with the strange noises. I sat next to her, petted her, and tried to do what I could to help her. She moved away from me when I tried to pet her. The tumor under her chin now is the width of her chin.

I feel so powerless to do anything to help her. She will still gently headbutt my hand when I hold it near her head. She likes it when I pet behind her shoulders, but not her head, and only when she is laying down. When she is walking, she moves away from any contact.

Squeaky has been with me for 17 or 18 years. It’s so hard to watch her gradually deteriorate. She is such a sweet little kitty. When I pet her, I can feel more of her ribs and spine along her back. Her dry food hasn’t been touched today, but she seems to be eating the wet food.

She has the same slightly hollow look in her eyes that Basette, Stella, and Ambush all had in their last days. It breaks my heart to see her like this. I keep hoping she’ll get better, but I know she won’t.

The mass under Kiesha’s chin has continued to grow. She doesn’t come downstairs to greet me any more. In fact, she’s only been coming downstairs once or twice per week. She purrs hesitantly when she see me, like an engine with a rough idle.

It’s hard to listen to her purr. She is having a harder time, but mostly seems okay. I keep watching for the day when she isn’t quite right, when she doesn’t seem happy or comfortable. I keep hoping we’ll have more time, but at the rate the tumor is growing under her chin, I’m afraid.

Some good news at least. Kiesha’s blood tests showed that all of her organs are functioning normally. Her thyroid levels are at the same range they were last time she was tested. So we’re all good there. That’s a bit of a relief. Next step will be the ultrasound. It’s quite expensive. I’m not sure what else I can do to help her, though. I’m not sure if there is time to put off doing the ultra sound a few weeks so the payment for it comes out of next month instead of this month.

You want to do everything you can but it’s a balancing act between trying to do enough to help and making sure there is food to eat, too.

I took Kiesha to the vet Friday afternoon. She was so good for the exam and the blood draw. I had this dreadful feeling that something was wrong with Kiesha. You know some times you get a gut feeling that this is your last year with a pet. I find myself watching Kiesha’s sides to make sure she’s still breathing when I find her asleep on the bed.

The vet’s exam confirmed that the tumor on Kiesha’s thyroid had probably turned malignant because it had significantly increased in size since her last visit. The bad news was that the vet had also found a second mass about the size of a golf ball in Kiesha’s abdomen (towards the back).

Right now we suspect that Kiesha has cancer. She isn’t a candidate for surgery. I wouldn’t put her through that, certainly not at 17 years old. My goal has always been quality of life with her. We’re going to keep an eye on Kiesha and see what happens. (No, we don’t have a prognosis of how much time she has left. It’s a wait and see and do what we can to make her comfortable.)

The vet took a blood panel and we’ll see how that looks on Monday. It will tell us how her organs are functioning as well as her thyroid levels. We can also do an ultrasound of her abdomen to learn more about the other mass. Treatment options might vary depending upon where the mass is — and if it is close to any organs or interfering with anything.

I think I’ve been in shock all weekend from this. She’s my last kitty of a set of four. I’ve had her since she was about six months old. She’s the sweetest kitty.

Kiesha has had hyperthyroid problems for the past several years. She developed a lump on her thyroid under her chin a while back. The vet said most likely it was benign and not unheard of in a cat with hyperthyroid issues. She’s on a half tablet of methimazole twice per day. Her thyroid levels have tested about the same level for a few years.

On Monday morning, Kiesha sat on my chest purring. Her purr sounded like someone talking who was recovering from laryngitis. She purred for a few seconds and then got off of my chest. She made noises like she was going to cough up a hairball, and then stopped. I petted her again, thinking I’d comfort her, and she started purring loudly, that compressed hoarse purr. She again coughed and made hacking noises. I felt under her throat. The tumor on her thyroid was much larger than I remembered. It was larger than my thumb.

She has been eating and drinking okay but has looked like she’s lost weight. She’s been sleeping more and playing less. She doesn’t seem to be distressed or uncomfortable. She’s sitting on the couch next to me right now purring. Her purr is subdued. I pet her enough to have her purr, and then pause until the rumble subsides. And then pet her again. She’s been in my lap for most of the evening.

I’ve made an appointment on Friday afternoon with Kiesha to do a blood test for her thyroid levels and see what might be going on. I have a really bad feeling about this.