After four months of being “catless” for the first time in nineteen years, we received a phone call from our long-term vet. “I know how attached you had been to Rosie,” she began, “would you consider adopting an adult cat?” The vet tech had found him as a stray, but decidedly not feral. When no one claimed him, the vet tech had brought him home to be fostered. When the cat was first examined at the vet’s office, he showed signs of having had a rough life in the wild. The vet’s office named him Crusty Joe; he was treated and then became a frequent visitor. 

“It won’t hurt to look,” my husband and I agreed after hearing the adoption proposal, although the image conjured up by the cat’s appellation was not promising. Once shown into the vet’s office, we viewed a beautiful, mostly white creature with grey and black markings. Physical signs of his prior life had been erased by time and loving care. Within a few minutes of the cat’s arrival, he jumped unbidden onto my lap and allowed me to stroke his incredibly soft, medium-length fur. I was smitten! We knew he would become a welcome addition to our life.

During the first two days of his arrival at our home, he seemed disoriented and often hid. On day three, my husband and I were concerned and sat on the couch together to decide what to do. All of a sudden, the cat jumped onto our laps and from that moment on, it was a match made in heaven. The cat deserved a more suitable name than Crusty Joe so we called him Sidoux (pronounced see-doo) which in French means “so kind” or “so gentle.”

Sidoux grew more affectionate with each passing day. Often he would creep soundlessly into a room where someone was sleeping, land on that person’s chest, with forepaws extended in an embrace while purring vigorously.

During one of Sidoux’s regular visits to the vet, she diagnosed him with extensive dental problems. She recommended that Sidoux be seen by UC Davis, where a surgeon recommended extraction of all his teeth. We were reassured that Sidoux would be in good hands there since the operation would be monitored by a surgeon and a specialized team of anesthetists. The surgery took place July 14, 2025. As a routine precaution after the extractions, the surgeon biopsied suspicious areas in Sidoux’s mouth. Sadly, results some days later indicated the presence of squamous cell cancer.  

Undaunted, Sidoux continued to thrive. His appetite was robust, he was more active and resumed appropriate self-grooming. We remained in contact with the UC Davis team and ultimately were offered the opportunity in early fall of enrolling him in a trial to test a new approach to tame this destructive cancer. The visits to Davis for exams and treatments became routine. We would bring him to the UC Davis small animal clinic Tuesday around noon, he would be prepared for the treatment on Wednesday. If all went well, we could bring him home in the early afternoon on Thursday. He experienced minimal side-effects.

Although these treatments were very effective in slowing down Sidoux’s cancer, they were not a cure. This past March, we discussed surgery as a promising next step. However, the proposed operation bore risks of its own which could lead to additional surgery and additional pain and anxiety for him. Sidoux was savoring life, as were we, and if the surgery failed, we could lose him already then. We decided as a family not to pursue that option.

By June 2026 we witnessed a slow decline in Sidoux’s energy level. This was followed by other signs that he was losing his battle for life. He remained ever affectionate to each of us to the end which came on August 6, 2026.

We were truly blessed to have Sidoux with our family for almost four years. We know that his participation in the trial at UC Davis will continue to provide additional findings leading to better and better treatments and –eventually—leading to a cure of this terrible disease. Ever kind and generous, Sidoux would want that outcome.

- The Aglietti Family