Cuddles' Brave Fight
Donation protected
As most of our family, friends, and even some acquaintances may know, Cuddles is an extremely precious part of our family. For the past 14 years, she has brought nothing but laughter, joy, love, and yes, even a generous helping of feistiness (as many can attest to!) into our lives. She has consistently been the picture of health and wellness.
On Saturday, February 28, 2015, though, we noticed that Cuddles was not acting like her vivacious and spry self. She was lethargic, her breathing was labored, and even more concerning, she had no interest in eating or drinking. This is when we knew something had to be wrong. An emergency trip to the vet confirmed our worst fears to be true: Cuddles was in a life threatening situation. She had a large mass in her chest, and our options were scarce. We either had to transport her to the nearest animal hospital, or we had to go through with the deed that every pet owner dreads: euthanization. We knew that the latter option was not going to fly, so to the animal hospital we went. There, we were told that Cuddles potentially had lymphoma; a grim, yet somewhat treatable fate. With that conditional diagnosis, her life expectancy was cut down to 6-9 months, a small piece of time that we were wiling to take if just to be able to have more time with our sweet girl. There was no question that my parents would go the distance in their efforts to find out just what this tumor was.
Throughout the week, more invasive testing was needed in order to find out what this tumor was comprised of; it largely remained a mystery to the doctors as much as it was a mystery to us. As the week progressed, the doctors finally came to the conclusion that Cuddles would need immediate surgery to remove the tumor in her chest. Still, it was no question as to whether or not my parents would go through with the surgery no matter the cost; This was their baby just as much as I was, and they felt they owed this much to her for that reason alone. The surgeon gave us the realistic odds of her survival: 50/50. She also said that while those were the odds, it remained our only option. With that, we marched on. Miraculously, she beat the odds and survived the surgery.
While we were elated, our joy was short-lived, because Cuddles was now in need of a blood transfusion. The only problem: we found out she is Type B, and 99.9% of cats are type A. Mass e-mails were sent, friends were called, and cats were brought in to be tested in order to see if any were a match for Cuddles. Still, my parents were relentless and called every animal hospital they could think of to see if they were in possession of Type B blood. Finally, my dad tracked down just one bag in New Jersey, and he didn't even think before hopping in the car and speeding over to pick it up, even though it came with a high price tag. Before we knew it, the blood was tested, it was a match for Cuddles, and all seemed to be right again: our baby would have what she needed. Another day passed, and while everything else seemed to be stable and improving, her breathing was still labored. She was and still is in need of an extended stay in the oxygenated chamber, and this chamber of course comes with a high price tag.
Anyone who is a pet owner feels that they will do whatever is needed for their pets to live a full and happy life, and provide them with the proper care when they are ailing, but I can attest to the fact that my parents have truly gone ABOVE and BEYOND their call of duty. I'm not blind to the huge financial burdens that have inevitably come with the course that Cuddles' life has suddenly taken, but my parents and I are keeping the faith and our doctors' assurance that if she pulls through this, she will continue to have a good quality of life in mind always. All who know my parents know that they have always indulged my every whim: my needs, my every single want, and everything in between, all without asking for anything in return, and now they can use the help. If you can find it in your heart to donate to Cuddles' special cause, it would be IMMENSELY appreciated. Any donations, no matter how big or how small, are welcome.
Also, in the event that Cuddles does not need further care after her extended hospital stay, all extra money will be donated to the North Shore Animal League in the name of "Cuddles Santobello." They gave us a joyous gift 14 years ago, and countless more of these precious cats and dogs can benefit from donation if it no longer serves us. Thank you all so much for your time, kindness, and generosity.
Sincerely,
Elisa-Marie Santobello
On Saturday, February 28, 2015, though, we noticed that Cuddles was not acting like her vivacious and spry self. She was lethargic, her breathing was labored, and even more concerning, she had no interest in eating or drinking. This is when we knew something had to be wrong. An emergency trip to the vet confirmed our worst fears to be true: Cuddles was in a life threatening situation. She had a large mass in her chest, and our options were scarce. We either had to transport her to the nearest animal hospital, or we had to go through with the deed that every pet owner dreads: euthanization. We knew that the latter option was not going to fly, so to the animal hospital we went. There, we were told that Cuddles potentially had lymphoma; a grim, yet somewhat treatable fate. With that conditional diagnosis, her life expectancy was cut down to 6-9 months, a small piece of time that we were wiling to take if just to be able to have more time with our sweet girl. There was no question that my parents would go the distance in their efforts to find out just what this tumor was.
Throughout the week, more invasive testing was needed in order to find out what this tumor was comprised of; it largely remained a mystery to the doctors as much as it was a mystery to us. As the week progressed, the doctors finally came to the conclusion that Cuddles would need immediate surgery to remove the tumor in her chest. Still, it was no question as to whether or not my parents would go through with the surgery no matter the cost; This was their baby just as much as I was, and they felt they owed this much to her for that reason alone. The surgeon gave us the realistic odds of her survival: 50/50. She also said that while those were the odds, it remained our only option. With that, we marched on. Miraculously, she beat the odds and survived the surgery.
While we were elated, our joy was short-lived, because Cuddles was now in need of a blood transfusion. The only problem: we found out she is Type B, and 99.9% of cats are type A. Mass e-mails were sent, friends were called, and cats were brought in to be tested in order to see if any were a match for Cuddles. Still, my parents were relentless and called every animal hospital they could think of to see if they were in possession of Type B blood. Finally, my dad tracked down just one bag in New Jersey, and he didn't even think before hopping in the car and speeding over to pick it up, even though it came with a high price tag. Before we knew it, the blood was tested, it was a match for Cuddles, and all seemed to be right again: our baby would have what she needed. Another day passed, and while everything else seemed to be stable and improving, her breathing was still labored. She was and still is in need of an extended stay in the oxygenated chamber, and this chamber of course comes with a high price tag.
Anyone who is a pet owner feels that they will do whatever is needed for their pets to live a full and happy life, and provide them with the proper care when they are ailing, but I can attest to the fact that my parents have truly gone ABOVE and BEYOND their call of duty. I'm not blind to the huge financial burdens that have inevitably come with the course that Cuddles' life has suddenly taken, but my parents and I are keeping the faith and our doctors' assurance that if she pulls through this, she will continue to have a good quality of life in mind always. All who know my parents know that they have always indulged my every whim: my needs, my every single want, and everything in between, all without asking for anything in return, and now they can use the help. If you can find it in your heart to donate to Cuddles' special cause, it would be IMMENSELY appreciated. Any donations, no matter how big or how small, are welcome.
Also, in the event that Cuddles does not need further care after her extended hospital stay, all extra money will be donated to the North Shore Animal League in the name of "Cuddles Santobello." They gave us a joyous gift 14 years ago, and countless more of these precious cats and dogs can benefit from donation if it no longer serves us. Thank you all so much for your time, kindness, and generosity.
Sincerely,
Elisa-Marie Santobello
Organizer and beneficiary
Elisa-Marie Santobello
Organizer
Yonkers, NY
Maria Santobello
Beneficiary