Last week I reported on how the, once morbidly obese, three legged cat Oakley had lost 1 kg since April and was in a bad way. It got worse on Friday when the vet suggested that it might be cancer of the stomach but the only way to find out was to do a biopsy which would require an anaesthetic which may well polish him off. Oakley was only nibbling at titbits of smoked salmon, honey glazed ham and other treats and we had a long discussion about quality of life and er..you know what.
The vet said that I should think about that but gave him an injection to try to stop his nausea, and to stiff me with another bill for £46. Sadly, I wandered home and when the Mrs returned from her mother's with Joshua in tow we talked it through. I suppose that, after a few days with the mother-in-law, talking about having your cat put down counts as light relief.
But then things started to change.
Oakley started to eat again and eat cat food to boot. Now he is eating like a horse. In hobbit fashion he demands three breakfasts and several lunches and supers. He is drinking from his bowl and pissing and shitting on the doorstep. it is just like the good old days. He does appear to be a bit less anorexic and he is moving about a bit more than he was , although he was never the most active of creatures. So thank you for all your kind wishes but "da King" as Joshua calls him is better. Long live da King!