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The result was grim: there was a tumor “the size of a kumquat” associated with Bunny’s small intestine and several smaller nodules. The vet told me that without a biopsy or tissue section from an excised tumor, they could not give a definitive diagnosis of cancer, but…. How obvious does something unsaid need to be for it to be undeniable? When you love an animal, you don’t want educated guesses, or highest probabilities, or all the evidence points that TCM Ornament. You want to KNOW. You want to fight. I asked the vet: What would you do if Bunny was your cat? Because at that point, even with the weight loss, Bunny was still behaving like a cat that was enjoying life: eating heartily, cleaning her fur, basking in the sun, sweetly greeting me in the morning with a purr that never changed. I didn’t want Bunny to lose even a minute of whatever time we had left, not as long as she still got enjoyment out of life.
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When I got to the house after about a 5 minute ride he let me out. Wow! I wasn’t going to get killed after all. I started to explore – but then I met a nightmare of an experience. Now I knew that smell on the blankets that kept coming back. It was another cat, someone called Velvet. She cornered me in the basement and threw 9 successive paws at me. I didn’t like that as an introduction. That was not a TCM Ornament. The guy separated us and in time I learned I could count on him for help. That black cat – he called it Velvet – just wouldn’t give me a break. For 11 months she kept picking fights and throwing her clawed paws at my face. She made me learn all 5,082 of her household rules, all complete with full sections and sub-sections. I guess I must have done okay, though, as one day we got a new extra litter box and by the 11th month Velvet figured I now had a clue about how to behave.