Karnak Street Kats

Dos was a street cat. He was a large, orange tabby who would come into our back yard and watch anyone there from a safe distance. Over time, he became a resident and a member of the cat household. We had him neutered and got his shots. If he was in the house, he loved attention. If he was outside, he was the street cat that did not want to be touched. Climbing was his favorite activity. He climbed every tree and even the deck poles up to the roof. He seemed happiest when looking down on the world.

Dos is two in Spanish. We already had a large, orange tabby (Golden) when Dos appeared. Dos was number two. Golden had a very pointed face; Dos a round head. Facing either of them, you knew which cat it was. From any other angle, identification could be difficult. One thing helped: Golden did not climb.

Dos had been with us several years when he developed a lump on his left front leg. The first thought was a cyst. Our veterinarian decided to remove it and have it biopsied just in case. The results were devastating. Dos had an untreatable cancer. To make sure of this diagnosis, the vet sent another tissue sample to Texas A&M veterinary school. A&M confirmed the diagnosis and suggested that the cat be euthanized because the cancer had surely spread to his internal organs.

Except for the leg where he now had an unhealing wound, Dos seemed fine. After consultation with our veterinarian, we decided to amputate the leg. My biggest concern was Dos' quality of life. How would a born climber do without a leg? I knew that three legged animals did just fine, but Dos would be grounded.

Dos came home and healed well. His front leg had been removed at the shoulder. We kept him inside until the stitches were removed. He had no trouble getting around, and the other cats seemed to see no difference.

The day came when Dos went outside. He chose the day, not me. He scooted by me as I went out the back door, then to my horror he jumped to the rail and reached out to a deck pole. He hesitated only for a glance at me, then he shinnied up the pole and took his usual position on the roof. How would he get down?

Dos came down by way of the oak tree that grew near the porch. He had no problem scaling whatever he wanted. The missing leg made no difference. The only change in his behavior was a desire to be picked up and carried to the house. He would come to me in the yard and wait to be picked up. Once in my arms, he relaxed and purred.

A year passed and Dos seemed well. One day I went outside to find Dos crouched at the foot of an elm tree. He looked at me, but did not move. I called him; he did not move. He simply meowed. I hurried to him and picked him up. Once inside, he did not move from where he was placed.

A trip to the vet confirmed the worst. Dos was dying. We had him euthanized and an autopsy confirmed that the cancer had spread throughout his body.

I do not regret my decision to have his leg amputated. Dos had a very good year climbing trees.