“So there’s a chance that it’s benign?”

“Yes, there’s a chance.”

So began the most hopeful conversation of my day. Per our veterinarian, Dr. C, there is a chance – small, but real – that the mass in Grady‘s lung is benign. There’s also a chance (again, small) that, if it is malignant, chemo may be of help. Apparently primary lung cancer in cats generally doesn’t respond well to chemo…but for every “generally”, there’s a raft of hopeful exceptions.

It’s no secret that I’ve become quite enamored with our Grady. He reminds me, to an almost eerie degree, of an elderly version of my own beloved Dibbles, and he’s so delighted by a pat or even a kind gaze that loving him is irresistible. The time spent cuddling, brushing and talking to Grady each morning is a cherished part of my day. There’s a gentleness and a goodness about this round-faced tabby boy that’s hard to put into words – but I know you know what I mean.

All of this is reason for me to be hopeful for the chances Dr. C offered.

But it’s also reason to put the bulk of my hope somewhere better.

The cockeyed optimist in me is holding tight to the chance that the tumor is benign, that the chemo could work, that Grady could be around for another 5 – 10 years and be adopted into a forever home.

The deeper optimist in me knows that, even if the tumor is what it probably is, even if it resists chemo, even if we lose Grady before the first tulips of spring appear, loving him is still a worthy cause.

It’s another topic for another entry, but my understanding of God’s grace is what drives and sustains me in all I do here. Much as we adore Grady at Tabby’s Place, I am confident that God loves him infinitely more, and that not even a whisker on Grady’s face will ever be unaccounted for.

I believe, down to my marrow, that the best is yet to come for Grady – that he will see love and freedom from suffering in the place where there is no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. My hope for Grady is deeper than any optimism. And that hope is what keeps me going when my heart aches for the only thing I’d like to change about cats: their short life spans.

Even if the end is near for Grady, my heart shouts that this isn’t the end of Grady. Not by a long shot.

In the meantime, the lovefest here at Tabby’s Place goes on. As commenter fredhetz astutely said after the last Grady update, “Grady is loved. A cat could do a lot worse.”

So could we all. May we live the love that changes the world for cats like Grady, and that echoes into eternity.