Couch by Jeffrey Aaron

In December 2001, our beautiful and loving all black cat Couch was diagnosed with hyperthyroid and likely thyroid cancer, as well as possible lung cancer. Couch had been named by our daughter in recognition of the fact that she was a fine bed cat, always quietly sleeping at our feet or next to us. She was already about 14 years old at diagnosis, and the vet suggested that surgery would be traumatic, could exacerbate the conditions, and that even if successful, in light of her age, it might not be a wise thing to do: it might be more for us, to keep her a little longer, than for her, since she was already well past her prime, though still loving and beautiful. To confirm the diagnosis, he sent us to the highly regarded Garden State Veterinary Specialists, where Dr Kate Palmer, the head of emergency services, met with us and treated her. The prognosis was "weeks to months left before she dies."

To make a surprisingly long story short, Couch lived a little over two more years with a good quality of life, thanks to the remarkable coordination of effort of the three parties: Dr Palmer, Couch, and us, her family. The relationship became intense and affectionate for all, and was highly successful. Couch had to take several pills three times a day most of the two years, but she was so trusting that she came over to get them as if it was her due when I began to take them from their bottles. We were able to get her purring, push several pills quickly down her throat, and she would still be purring afterward. For the two years, in light of her condition, we took no vacations, not wanting to subject her to strangers shoving pills down her throat. We watched her symptoms closely, and occasionally noticed subtle changes such as hyperactivity or excessive sleeping or more or less eating or drinking or dilated eyes or lying under the sofa – signs of distress - at which time we had a re-diagnosis with Dr Palmer. Blood work sometimes showed swings from hyperthyroid to hypothyroid – apparently a common effect of the medication - and the modification of her medication always brought her completely back and happy. Dr Palmer was always amazed at our ability to see the subtle variations that enabled us to bring her in before she suffered too much or her health was harmed by inadvertent neglect.

Couch was happier when we brought her to the vet in our arms instead of in a carrier. Her personality allowed that to work far better. She sat on my lap as I drove the half hour trip to the hospital, and greeted the receptionists when I checked in, who became very fond of her. The fine care she received from the vet was in large part a result of Dr Palmer’s ability to recognize our capabilities to relate to Couch’s conditions, as well as her own fine diagnostic capabilities, excellent treatment, and warmth that put Couch and us as much at ease as was possible. Eventually, the conditions led to a heart condition and a water filled kidney cyst. All symptoms were kept under control until the required drainage treatments began to have to be too frequent, and Couch started to have trouble drinking because of the thyroid tumor, at which time we put her down, after a fine life.

In addition to a warm, extensive letter of condolence, Dr Palmer made a memorial contribution to Animal Cancer Foundation, which enabled us to learn about that fine organization and offer our story and our support, as well.