E.T.'s wheezing took a turn for the worse, scaring us both very badly. The new vet did a whole battery of tests and the results were crushing. E.T. had cancer of the spleen. Yes, there was a vet a few hours away that did this surgery, but it was very, very expensive and E.T. was no longer in her prime. He didn't recommend it, it would be very hard on her, if she even survived it. She still had some time left and he felt she would be better off living her life as she was. He gave us a stronger version  of the anti-biotics we'd had before, but they really didn't help very much.

E.T. enjoyed the summer and whenever it was sunny outside, she could be found curled up on a patch of warm earth. She had her 17th birthday in November 2001. By this time she had gained a lot of weight with the growth of the cancer and could no longer climb the stairs, so she was sleeping in the living room. Peanut, who spent her life trying to please everyone, would go and spend time with E.T. every day. I would find them curled up together and sometimes I would find E.T. bathing Peanut just like her Mother had done, so many years before.

E.T. still had a very healthy appetite and never missed a meal. She was always happy to see someone. If she was lying down and she thought she had been left alone longer than was right, she would come looking for a human voice and a pat. She always made the long trek to the litter box which was in the laundry room.

As Christmas approached, we knew the time was coming when we would have to say good-bye. E.T. was always cold now and was sleeping in an afgan on the sofa. We decided that we would buy her a bed for Christmas, one with a warm sheepskin type mattress. When we gave it to her, she climbed in and curled up. She enjoyed her Christmas treats, her appetite was still normal. In retro thought, E.T. actually enjoyed Christmas more than Peanut did, and Peanut was such a Christmas kitty.

Her tummy grew so large that it almost dragged on the ground and she was having trouble jumping up on the sofa. I started putting her food and water on the coffee table so she wouldn't have to get off the sofa so often.

A couple of days after Christmas I walked into the living room to find Peanut curled up in her bed and E.T. sleeping back on the afgan. I picked Peanut up and giving her stern words about stealing E.T.'s bed, telling her that it would be hers soon enough, I put her on the afgan and picked up E.T. and put her back in her bed. I had noticed that Peanut was sleeping a lot by the heat register and I think E.T. knew that Peanut needed the warmth as much as she did.

What I didn't know, was that Peanut would only be with us another two weeks and that she would never again get to sleep in E.T.'s bed.

When we took the tree down after New Years, we put a litter box in the living room by the sofa. E.T. was really starting to struggle to move around and we knew that time was quickly closing in on us.

We suddenly realized that Peanut had a very serious problem. That although she was still first in line to be fed, she could not seem to swallow. The week that followed was a nightmare. Trips to the vet and test after test, and all the time E.T. very stoically remained her so very alert self.

When we had to make the final decision about Peanut, we were in the kitchen crying and cuddling with her, when around the corner came E.T. She could barely walk, but she came to offer her support and I think to say good-bye to Peanut.

Ten days later, after failing twice to make it up on the sofa, she let us know that her time had come. We said good-bye on January 21st, 2002.

E.T., who was always a klutz when it came to jumping or climbing, had otherwise always been so regal. There was, somewhere in her genes, the presense of a Siamese, which showed when she walked and cried. Throughout her many months of illness, not once did we hear her cry, not once did we see tears. She always welcomed us when we visited and she loved the time that Peanut spent with her.

This elegant lady is once again with her Mother, and with a little Peanut cat who waited for her, so they could travel to the Bridge together.

It's taken me two years to complete E.T.'s story. Why I had so much trouble with it, I still don't know. I do know I have cried more writing this, than I have in a very long time. Does the hurt ever go away? No it does not.

I am so blessed to have had these wonderful beings in my life.