I just found out my cat, Cricket, has cancer.
I know this sounds awful, but this isn't bad news.
I say this because I didn't know what was wrong with my kitty before we had to make the decision to put him down. He had two massive tumors in his stomach that made it painful, if not impossible, to eat. For months we watched him vomit up food he desperately wanted because he couldn't keep it in. We watched him wither away in sheer ignorance. When we found out why he was so sick, I felt so guilty and hurt that I cried in front of my kids.
I keep a photo of my cat on my phone. When people ask me why I don't have my kids' photos, I usually tell them, to their horror, how it reminds me to listen to my kids when they say they are hurt or not feeling well. I know that if my cat could have talked, he would have told me how it hurt to eat. Instead, that damn lovebug kept struggling to get up on the bed and nuzzle with us, and we were too damned stupid to realize what he was trying to say.
At least you know, and can help your loved one live the best life possible; I feel like I condemned my cat to months of torture.
You have my condolences and the bestest of wishes.