Funnyface: Part One

From my journal entry this morning:

Today, perhaps, is a day of doom. Having not the capacity for detachment that most people manage to possess, I have taken it into my head to save a sickly stray cat. This kitty, whom Vern and I call Funnyface, is a lovely, furry, skinny gray tabby. And her poor little nose and throat are so congested that she labors to breathe.

We took her to the vet yesterday--I knew she would need flea mendicine and the insides of her ears were very dirty, so I knew they needed to be cleaned and disinfected. And I hoped that they might just say she had a terrible cold. Unfortunately, they took a slide of her mucus and found that she had "cryptoccocosis" (I don't have the inclination currently to look up whether or not I have spelled that word correctly)--a fungus that attacks cats' nasal passages, lungs and can even move into their central nervous system. The vet related it to cancer in humans, in the sense that it may or may not get better with treatment. She told us of some medicine that we can use to possibly and hopefully get rid of it, but there is, of course, no guarantee. That is sad, but the possibility of hope--that it could make her better--is enough to convince me to try it.

However, the dark fear that is sitting in my mind is this: cats who get this fungal infection are generally in possession of a compromised immune system. They took blood to see whether she has feline leukemia or feline HIV. They are supposed to call us with the results today. If she has either of these, there is not much hope that the crypto fungus will get better. Also, feline leukemia is passed through casual contact, so we can't let her around Billy--and we can't even really let her outside--she could infect other cats with it.

Perhaps I shouldn't worry about any of this because we don't know the results of that test yet. But I have an awful feeling. And that means what? That we might have to put this sweet, unassuming, love-starved cat to sleep? She trusted us! I was trying to help her, to make her better! Not to get her killed. I just pray that my feeling is wrong--that she doesn't have those illnesses and has a chance at a better life, with her respiratory problems medicated and hopefully cured. I want this cat to be okay. To live. Please God. Let her live.