After a pretty down day on saturday, the fairly aged feline perked up a bit yesterday, especially when offered tuna for the first time in his life (or at least, since we’ve had him) – that’s clearly a favourite. He was a little more cuddly, slightly more vocal, and generally on the up.
That still didn’t prepare us for this morning’s return to the vets, who on examining his tummy by feel, said the lump had ‘gone’… yup, ‘gone’. Of course that doesn’t mean the cancer’s gone, or that we’re clear or any of that nonsense, but it does mean that the chemo is working its magic and we may have a little longer than the two weeks I was assuming was our time frame until I heard the word ‘gone’ this morning.
So, thanks to those of you who’ve been chatting to God about this. Whether or not it’s miraculous is at this point moot – the result is of more interest to me right now than the method (and, to be honest, the ramdomness of much that is labeled as miraculous just causes more theological and epistemological questions than it answers…
But I digress. Raise a glass to the small furry ginger one!by