Help Get Molly Cancer Surgery

Molly just celebrated her 16th birthday, and in a few weeks, we'll mark the 16th anniversary of her arrival chez moi. But "celebrating" may be the wrong word to use, since the vet has determined that her symptoms aren't a sign of dental problems (easy to fix): he found a cancerous mass in her mouth. Without surgery, and with palliative treatment, this fast-growing cancer is likely to claim her life within two to three months. Surgery isn't infallible, but it could give her another good-quality year of life, and he says it's the course of action he would take if Molly were his own cat, since she is otherwise extraordinarily healthy for her age. 

Unfortunately, this has been a bad year for my freelance earnings, and it might come down to choosing between covering my rent or paying for surgery for Molly. Not a good thing. As best I know right now, the surgery would cost $2,000; perhaps slightly more. I'm reaching out to a local surgeon to evaluate Molly (the tests will be a few hundred dollars), and if he finds that it hasn't spread and that surgery stands a decent chance of success, I would like to try to give her a chance of those extra months of life. Yes, she is an older cat, but she deserves it. The funds will be used only for the surgical expenses, any related medication and the cost of transporting Molly to and from the surgery. 

Molly and I have formed a special bond, especially since her adoptive sibling, Jasper, died of complications from acute diabetes a few years ago. As many of my friends know, she likes to join in on phone conversations and (literally) let her voice be heard. Her favorite place in the world is wherever I am -- snuggled up beside me on the sofa, on my lap when I'm working or glued to my side in bed. And as long as she's there, she purrs -- constantly, and loudly. She remains a curious cat (if I'm watching videos of something interesting, she'll actively try to find out how to get inside the computer and reach the source of all the noise and activity) and a beautiful and elegant one, supervising the antics of the younger Fergus with disdain. Her greatest frustration is her failure to transform me into a cat, too. She grooms me, and constantly chirps, purrs and meows at me, all while eyeing me intently. Why won't I cooperate and be a good cat, grow a tail and start meowing comprehensibly, she would clearly like to know. 

I can't transform into a cat for Molly, but I can try to thank her for affection and support (feline style) by helping her live a longer and more comfortable life -- with your assistance. This isn't something I would ever do for myself, but for one of my cats, when there's a chance of a better outcome, I will do whatever it takes. If you can find it in your heart to help me help her, I will always be grateful.