We were hoping for the best while preparing ourselves for the worst. And got the worst.
According to our lovely vet, the tumor is too big to operate, and anyway the fairly aged feline has got fluid on his lungs that mean they couldn’t put him under the anesthetic. So pretty much as bad as the situation could be.
He’s going on chemo to see if it will reduce the size of the tumor to the point where it’ll be operable, and also he’s being treated for the lung thing, so that if it does shrink they’ll be able to do the operation. But all in, the future doesn’t look that bright for the furry ginger one.
And we’re heartbroken. After the pain of losing The Aged Feline just over a year ago, we thought we’d have these two for years and years to come – they’ve settled in fantastically well, and become a vital part of the life of the house, having their own routines that we have to fit round, and their own novel ways of communicating. the tiny ginger one had a few delightful idiosyncrasies and was one of the clingiest cuddliest cats I’ve ever come across, never happier than being bundled up in someone’s arms for a big cuddle.
So we’re still hoping for that miracle, hoping that the chemo will work better than it ever has before, hoping that our genius vet can remove the tumour, and that our little guy will have years of happy life left. But it’s really not looking likely at all.
Soundtrack – Prefab Sprout, ‘Steve McQueen’.by