At the end of May, I saw that JP's cheek was swollen. JA told me that the swelling had started a week or so before (I'd been visiting mom). So we took him to the vet as soon as time and wallet allowed, and Dr. said JP had an abscess on his tooth, and the offender needed to come out ASAP. After a week of antibiotics, JA took JP to the vet a week ago to have the thing removed.
I had a bad feeling from the beginning. JP is almost 12 years old. He had diabetes last year, and earlier this year, he had swollen intestines, for which he took steroids for a month. He's lost a lot of weight, and now he's at about 7 and a half pounds. I wasn't even sure he'd wake up from the anesthesia.
The vet called to let me know that the swelling was a result of a tumor, and that the tooth had practically fallen out on its own, pushed out by the growth. He took tissue for biopsy, and Monday he called to let me know that JP has a very aggressive and particularly nasty form of bone cancer. We could do chemo, but the prognosis was bad, and I wouldn't put my little hombre through radiation anyway.
We will put him down tomorrow at noon.
We will finish giving JP the meds he got last week, so that at least he might not be in too much pain. We will treat him like a little king, and there has been no saying "no" to him this week. I asked JA to feed JP whenever his little heart desires, and I'll make sure his bed and toys are clean.
I will always remember my little hombre as I first met him, hiding in his foster mom's closet. I will remember him sleeping in his bed with my stuffed piggie, "making a donut", as JA said, or "making biscuits" on the pig before he laid down to sleep. Lying on the rug taking some sun. Hanging out in the bath tub. Looking out the window at the squirrels and birds that made him crazy. Watching tv with me with his paws on the remote, not letting me change the channel. Ducking his head under the book I was reading, obligating me to pay attention to him. Standing up to ask for food. How he loved everyone who loved him.