KC Masterpiece

By Alexis Mitchell

June 22, 2009

“Piece” was born in April of 2000. He was the most beautiful cat I had ever seen. He was like a little painted rock, with all the stripes and spirals he was supposed to have as a tabby - a masterpiece. Since I had just moved to Kansas, I named him KC Masterpiece.

I showed him for a full year and he was the best Maine Coon in the Midwest region and the fourth best Maine Coon cat in the country. His show career took us from coast-to-coast and we had a wonderful time with him. He was more of a “people” cat than any I’d ever shown, and everywhere we went people wrote about him and he was featured in many news articles. He is a love-of-my-life kind of cat.

When he was about four years old, I picked him up like I do seventeen million times a day, and I felt a little spongy mass between his shoulder blades. I didn’t know what it was, but something about it made me very concerned. I took KC Masterpiece to the vet and she did a needle aspirate of the mass. My veterinarian was concerned and recommended further diagnostics with a veterinary oncologist – a vet who specializes in the diagnosis and treatment of cancer. The following Monday I took him to the vet school in Manhattan, Kansas where a biopsy, a CT scan, and other diagnostics were performed to get an answer. They came back with horrible news. It was a vaccine-associated fibrosarcoma. To make matters worse, the cancer had already spread to his lungs. They said the cancer was terminal and gave him four to six weeks to live. It felt like somebody had knocked me out. I took KC Masterpiece home.

After the biopsy, the tumor grew to an enormous size in just two weeks. We thought we were close to the end. Then a vet student called from Kansas State University. She said the Animal Cancer Center at Colorado State University was doing a clinical research trial on these tumors. KC Masterpiece had to fit certain guidelines to get into the trial, but she wanted to at least give me the information about it. Off to Colorado we went.

At his initial medical consultation at the CSU Animal Cancer Center, they said he could not get into the study because the tumor was much too big. However, there was a surgeon there who thought he could remove the tumor. He thought there was enough margin around it. Not more than a millimeter, but just enough. We were looking at a do-or-die situation.

I talked to KC Masterpiece before that first surgery. I told him I didn’t know when it was the right decision to put an animal through something that might be uncomfortable. I asked him to just give me a chance to help him. I swore to him that I would quit if it became undignified or too uncomfortable. I said that if he would just get through it, just see if we could do something to help him, then I would love to try. I think he knew what I was saying. He came out of surgery and the surgeon said he successfully removed the tumor. He took some of the scapula, but he didn’t have to take KC Masterpiece’s leg.

Surgery was followed by nine weeks of radiation therapy. He had a radiation treatment each day Monday through Friday and came back to the hotel room with me each evening, which he was very used to doing, because he was a show cat. He spent his days at the hospital and his nights with me at the hotel. He thought that was great! After the nine weeks of radiation therapy, everything looked good and I took him home.

Four years later, the tumor came back. CSU said they could try to take it out again, and follow with chemotherapy this time. KC Masterpiece had already received his maximum dose of radiation, so that was not an option for him. I said, “Let me talk to him.”

Five months of chemotherapy followed.

In the four years since his first surgery, the Animal Cancer Center had acquired what we call in human medicine a cyber knife (Varian Trilogy); specialized beams of radiation, that wasn’t available when he was first diagnosed. With these specialized beams of radiation, they could penetrate only the tumor and not affect the normal tissue around it. I was really nervous about it, but he’s such a happy cat and it just seemed like a waste to give up now, so we decided to try it.

I always give KC Masterpiece little massages and rub his neck. He likes it and I monitor to see if the tumor has come back. Fortunately, I don’t feel anything there anymore. This is truly a miracle. I don’t know if it’s really gone but at his last check up, there was no evidence of the tumor. I think having him cancer free and celebrating his ninth birthday is pretty exciting.

I appreciate every day I have with him. The little annoying things that he might do don’t bother me anymore. He’ll get up on my dresser and, one by one, he’ll knock things off until I get up and get him a can of food. If he can find a piece of plastic, he’ll also rattle that until I get up. Things like that used to be annoying, but now are cute to me. I’m more patient with annoying things that anybody does now. Experiencing cancer treatment with Piece puts everything into perspective.

KC Masterpiece’s cancer was my worst experience as far as an illness goes, but the best medical experience I’ve ever had with an animal. I don’t think I had better treatment when I had to have surgery. It is amazing the way the CSU Animal Cancer Center runs things in such a very methodical, yet very personable way. The kindness and wonderful care they gave me and Piece was just unbelievable. In a dire situation when somebody says there’s no hope, there is. If you want hope, or need hope in a hopeless situation with your pet, it’s at the CSU Animal Cancer Center. Five years ago KC Masterpiece was terminal, and now he’s nine years old. We’ll take it!