When I wrote--not so long ago--about the issues regarding euthanasia, I didn't realize how quickly they would apply to me. As I wrote those words, I was battling a months-long problem with Lady Noir. She had started to lose weight, was obvious weak, and her breath was horrible. Both my vets and I thought it was some type of infection or blockage. Oral problems were immediately ruled out. Lady had been consuming bones for most of her life, and her teeth reflected the cleansing properties of soft bone and had minimal plaque, no fractures or serious wear, and no gingivitis. All oral tissues were normal in color, and no swelling. Lady's throat looked a little swollen, so we took an x-ray to be on the safe side. The x-ray really didn't tell us much; there might have been something going on, but it was hard to tell. To be safe, we decided to start antibiotics, and Lady responded well. For a while, at least. She was responding so well that she was slated to be removed from the hospital cage and returned to her home with the rest of the business. With hand feedings of Bob's Chicken Gravy, she had gained back the half-pound she had lost. She had done that "I'll only eat if you feed me" thing like some ferrets do, so I was taking my time and was not too worried about getting her out of the cage. Then, last week her breath turned nasty again and she stopped eating. I took her back to the vet, but this time the x-ray showed a large abdominal mass. A few more tests and we knew exactly what was wrong: lymphosarcoma. We looked back at the first x-rays to see what we had missed: a small area above her abdomen adjacent to her vertebrae about half the size of a grain of rice. We were looking for a blockage or foreign object, or even evidence of infection in her neck, and the spot was so small it was overlooked as an artifact caused by overlapping bone. Lady didn't have a chance, yet we started some chemotherapy in an attempt to relieve some of her symptoms. Three days ago, Lady started showing neurological symptoms, having a difficult time voiding and defecating, and some difficulty walking. Powerlessly, I watched as the problems crept up her body. Early Sunday morning, she stopped blinking and was having constant minor seizures. The decision was made and Lady was released from her pain. A necropsy was immediately done, partially because I am compulsively paranoid about ADV, and partially because the fresher the tissue sample, the easier it is to identify cell types. Both the gross and microscopic inspection confirmed lymphosarcoma, which had grown into the spinal cord. Lady Noir was a sweet gift from a sweet lady, and I adored her dark little nose and sparkling eyes. She would hook her canines over my finger and I would lift her up--claiming loudly she was biting me--and I would ruffle her fur and blow on her nose and off she would shoot like a black rocket. She would perch on my shoulder to inspect my ear canals and occasionally nip the back of my neck. She loved to tease, and if I ignored her, she would carefully pull my sock until I relented and lifted her up onto the paradise of my desk. I like to keep my basement cool in winter, and I wear an old lab coat to keep warm, and Lady loved sleeping in the right pocket, occasionally popping her head up to inspect a strange noise, or sniff the air to identify a bone I was working on. I cannot describe how much I shall miss her leaps from my shoulder to my desk. I only wish she could knock over a Pepsi onto a pile of bones one last time. I'm going to miss that little lab rat more than I care to admit. Bob C [Posted in FML issue 4432]