UPDATE 22 July 2025

Today she’s in surgery, and while we pray for success, the journey ahead feels overwhelming—there will be more treatments, mounting bills, and countless moments when your kindness will be the difference between hope and despair.

Every extra £ right now is a lifeline for her recovery and a reminder that she is not alone in this fight. I’m already aching to see her goofy smile again, to hold her close, and to let her know how many people believe in her—your continued support keeps us going.

From the bottom of my aching heart, thank you for every single donation you’ve sent to help Alessa's treatment.

Update : 15 July 2025

We’re Back From the Vet

We came home today carrying both hope and fear. Alessa is scheduled for surgery next Tuesday to remove the lump — the whole thing. It’s her best chance, but it’s going to be a tough road.

Right now, she’s being treated like the queen she is: chicken nuggets on demand, endless cuddles, and more love than I knew I could give. I’m soaking up every second with her.

The truth is, this isn’t easy — emotionally or financially. But for her, I’d give up everything. There was never a doubt in my mind. I’ll fight for her with everything I have.

If you’re able to help, in any way, it would mean the world. Whether it’s a donation or simply sharing her story, every bit brings us closer to giving her the second chance she deserves.

If love alone could save her, she’d already be healed.

Alessa — my baby, my shadow, my heart — has been diagnosed with cancer.

I’ve started and deleted this message more times than I can count. Asking for help like this is something I never imagined myself doing — it feels like tearing a piece of my pride out and laying it bare. But here I am, because I don’t have many options left.

Over the past few days, she wasn’t quite herself. Slower, quieter. I found a lump on her chest and deep down… I knew. But nothing prepares you to hear those words. My world stopped. Everything else faded away. The vets believe there’s a chance it can be removed — but it comes down to time, treatment, and unfortunately… money.

And this is where I fall apart.

Someone once joked about setting up a GoFundMe for me to get a tattoo — something I laughed off at the time. But now, I find myself wishing there was a fundraiser… not for something frivolous like a tattoo, but for Alessa.

I have never been the type to ask for help. I’ve always figured it out on my own, no matter how tough things got. But right now, I’m out of options. I will sell everything I own to save her. I will go without. I’d give anything to keep her tail wagging, to hold her a little longer, to not have to say goodbye too soon.

So I’m doing something that goes against every instinct I have — I’m asking. If you’re in a position to help, even a little, it could make a world of difference. Not just in covering the cost of scans, treatments, and surgery… but in giving Alessa a fighting chance. In giving us more time together. More memories. More love. I can't loose my princess, I couldn't bare it.

And if you can’t donate, that’s okay too. Sharing this, sending love, keeping her in your thoughts — it all matters. It all helps. I am so sorry for even asking something like this.

Thank you for reading this. Thank you for caring. And thank you for helping me fight for her life.