Yesterday, Walker made a delicious dinner of roasted chicken and garden salad. When we sat down to eat, Ernie came running, begging as she always does for her share of the chicken. She actually likes salad, too, but cutting it small enough for her is a pain so she rarely gets it. Anyway: I wasn’t fast enough dicing her meat up so she showed her impatience by putting her feet up on my leg and letting out a wail. I looked down at her and about lost my lunch - her left eyeball looked like it was full of blood.
It wasn’t like that when I went to bed that morning, so I figured she had injured herself somehow during the day while Walker and I were both asleep. I immediately called the vet, who agreed to see us right away last night. I called my office to let them know I would be late and bundled Ernie into her crate. Off we went.
Ernie is a bit of a novelty at our vet clinic, as she is their oldest feline patient. They are all amazed at how well she gets around and how feisty (read: mean) she is. Four and a half pounds of mouth and attitude, that one. Bless her heart. Ahem.
So they started their exam while I sat on a bench and watched. There was a lot of fighting and a lot of hissing and a lot of spitting. There was a little peeing on people and a very little sitting quietly. In the end, the tests were done and the news is not good. The bloody eyeball is caused by an infection. The infection is caused by cancer. They can treat the infection with eye drops but it will keep coming back, since the cancer isn’t going anywhere. My poor little girl. The vet said she believes the eye is painful. I got the drops and put some in immediately, so Ernie should be getting some relief soon.
I asked about euthanasia but the vet said what I have been saying: Ernie has too much fight left to give up on her right now. She is not ready to go yet. We're taking it one day at a time.