Then again, maybe not.

We picked up Missy as a stray on a wet winter day in Denver in 2001. She was a friendly black and white cat with a few missing teeth and sharp claws. She immediately dominated and terrified our other three cats but was friendly and nice to her humans. Eventually, she got along fairly well with Spencer and Kooshie but she always had a special disdain for Maggie. Although missing a lot of teeth and pretending to only eat soft food, she would craftily steal french fries and Doritos.

When Boo came along, Missy was an amazing and wonderfully patient cat for the baby to play with. She tolerated, and almost seemed to enjoy, wet sloppy kisses, pulled tails, and baby poking and prodding the cat. Doodle and Missy also got along very well. She would plop down in his “path of terror” and he would plop down right on top of her. As recently as this weekend, Doodle would roar with laughter at Missy flicking her tail at a rambunctious two-year old.

When my wife left in March, Missy was often in my lap or on my chest purring and comforting me. She made a house that was suddenly way too big and too quiet seem cozy, comfortable, and warm.

A few weeks ago, I noticed her appetite begin to wane. She wasn’t begging for food the moment I got home and wasn’t jumping up on my lap anymore. She’d still climb into Boo’s bed when I went to wake her in the morning and would still tip the trash over when I forgot to lock it up. When I brushed her last week, she didn’t fight as hard and I managed to escape without scratches for the first time.

This weekend, it finally clicked to me that something was seriously wrong. Her food was sitting untouched and her litter box was going unused. Her belly was distended and hard. I took her to my vet this afternoon and an x-ray found her belly was full of fluid and some of her blood chemistry was out of whack. The possibilities ranged from dire to moderate illness that at the very least would require a lot of testing and treatment. She needed a lot more work than a simple round of antibiotics. Reluctantly, we decided that the best course was to put her to sleep.

Boo and I spent a few minutes saying goodbye and my daughter comforted me.

We’ll miss you, Missy.

Sleeping on the Elmo Chair.

Stealing an expensive steak. I won that round.

Playing with Boo.

Saying goodbye (yes, Boo took this picture).

One last cuddle.

Since he was the “pet” of the Conservation Center, he had a name. I don’t know who named him but we called him “Lester the Molester.” He shared his pen with a huge female tortoise we called “Mrs. Lester.” Mr. and Mrs. Lester were constantly dancing the matrimonial polka, if you know what I mean. You could hear their incessant grunting several pens away.

One time, Rob and I were watching their antics and Mrs. Lester wasn’t in the mood. He was ramming her with his gular horn (the projection of the lower shell under the chin), bobbing his head madly, biting at her legs, and trying to get her to stand still so he could mount her. Male tortoise courtship uses similar techniques to that of Kobe Bryant. Anyway, she would have none of it. She kept moving, feeding on the grass, and he kept falling off of her. She was too big for him to subdue and when she finally had enough of Lester’s advances, she retreated into the safety of the burrow.

Now Lester, wasn’t about to let her get away. He moved to the top of the burrow entrance and waited. Mrs. Lester turned around in the burrow and cautiously looked out the entrance. She couldn’t see him. Finally, she began to walk out of the burrow. Wham! Lester leapt from the top of the burrow onto her shell. Another glorious victory for Lester!

When the County needed a charismatic tortoise for their public relations efforts to protect his wild kin and the desert, Lester was moved to the Red Rock Visitor Center in 1991 and renamed Mojave Max. Eventually, they had to keep him alone because he was scandalizing schoolchildren and producing too many hatchlings at the visitor center. Over the years, I would see him every once in the while up at Red Rock. He lived out his years in the media spotlight in a big, well planted pen. Every year, the school children would have a contest on when he would emerge from brumation in the spring.

The County plans on naming a new Mojave Max for the emergence contest and for their public education efforts. However, there will never be another Lester the Molester.

Technorati Tags: tortoise sex

On two occasions, I’ve had snakes go missing for a long time, over a week. Both times, I found the animals by noticing strange cat behavior. When the cats are starting intently into a space, they are hearing a snake back there. Once was back when I lived with my parents and the little patch-nosed snake was drinking from a saucer under a plant in my mom’s window full of house plants. About a year ago, my cat alerted me to a snake that was behind some book cases. It’s embarrassing to have your pets go missing but at least I’ve always found mine. I’ve never had a pet end up in my neighbor’s toilet, for example. Here are some excellent tips on finding snakes in your house.

And here is one of escape artists, a gopher snake:

His right front leg was amputated last Wednesday due to a chondrosarcoma tumor on his scapula. We took him home on Saturday and he appeared to be improving on Sunday. He was eating well and was receiving additional nutrition though a feeding tube. He was strengthening and moving about clumsily. We were hoping to see the typical grace and balance of a cat help him learn to move on three legs but on Sunday he started losing his appetite. On Monday, he started losing control of his body temperature and he began to become hypothermic. By Monday night, his body temperature was dropping so I took him to the vet first thing on Monday morning. He was very anemic and died in the vet’s arms purring a few hours later.

I’m glad for the extra time we had with Spencer and that we pursued treatment of his cancer. I’m also content with the decision to stop treatments and let him go when his condition began to deteriote. I’m strangely proud somehow that he died on his own terms and didn’t need to be euthanized. He was still on pain medication and the vet said his death was painless and quick. I am also touched by the kindness of family and friends during this time. We received many kind phone calls and emails. Hot Wife’s coworkers even got her a gift card for scrapbooking supplies so she could do some pages about Spencer and one of my coworkers got me a very nice sympathy card. Thank you everyone for your kindness during the last few days.

Technorati Tags: cats, pets

Now for a 10-year old cat, losing a front leg shouldn’t too much of a problem. Four-legged animals (unless they are really heavy like horses or elephants) can easily get around on three. I’ve seen plenty of three-legged dogs but never any cats (except in the blogosphere). Cats, with their great sense of balance, should be able to get around fine on three legs.

In any case, Hot Wife knows I am pleased to obtain another curiosity for our home.

In the meantime, Spencer is enjoying tuna and lots of pampering.

Since bone cancers are more common in dogs there is more information online about canine bone cancers. This is a good description of chondrosarcoma: “Chondrosarcoma is a cartilage tumor, possibly not as malignant as the osteosarcoma. The chondrosarcoma generally occurs on flat bones such ribs or skull bones and is not usually found in the limbs. Still, should a chondrosarcoma occur in the limb, treatment recommendations would still include amputation of the affected bone and biopsy of the tissue after amputation would allow for any adjustments in chemotherapy.”

Another, more general site, has some good Frequently Asked Questions about cancer in pets.

Our vet is consulting with a oncologist to determine treatment options and Spencer’s prognosis. We’ll take him in Friday for some blood work to determine a reason for his weight loss from 8 to 6 pounds. Surgical removal of the the tumor and part of the scapula may be required. Of course, if his weight loss is due to other disease, his condition may not be good enough for surgery.

Technorati Tags: cats

Daycare was closed. That was kinda bad. Not that I don’t enjoy spending time with The Princess and The Boy but I had some visions of watching a lot of college basketball on Friday. We found out that daycare was closed on Monday, I put in for the day off on Tuesday (it is preferred that I take my birthday day this month but technically I had until of the end of the year to use the day). My boss was a little reluctant to authorize taking off Friday because we have been very busy but when I explained that day care was closed she relented.

I’ve got a to-do list a mile long these days and faced with a day off I needed to do something big. I was going to take the cats to the vet. I made an appointment for three cats: Spencer, Missy, and Maggie. Maggie is ours but lives with my wife’s parents. My vet is a friend who gives me a pretty good discount and I have been SCUBA diving with him so I was looking forward to seeing him. The cats were overdue for a checkup and Spencer was looking a bit thin especially after his recent grooming. He wasn’t eating well and occasionally limped. Still, I wasn’t too worried about him.

I should have been.

I packed up both kids, two cats, went to the in-laws to pick up Maggie, picked up my Mom to help wrangle the children and drove across town to my vet’s office. The tech took a history on all three cats and the boy wailed and made the place sound like a pediatrician’s office. Finally, the staff placated my children with donuts and coloring books and the vet came in. Missy checked out OK and Maggie checked out OK.

Then came Spencer’s turn. The first thing the vet said (in an alarmed tone): “How long has he had this lump?” Oh, crap.