There’s an old joke that takes the form of a cat’s diary vs a dog’s diary. We didn’t have to do over 700 days: only 10, but it felt longer.

Following the boy’s expensive trip to the vets last year, it was Kitty’s turn. She’d had a lump appear an inch or so from the base of her tail, and last year a visit to the vets had it needle sampled and tested, and the test was that it wasn’t cancerous, and also, it disappeared.

Then came back. We weren’t terribly worried, but it grew a bit larger and she started to bite and lick at it, so this obviously needed attention, so no food for either cat from 10pm, and a morning trip to the vets.

Collecting her later, she was still anasthetic-drunk, but starving hungry, having shoved her head into a packet of Dreamies, and then gobbled down nearly a whole tin of tuna. Early hopes that she might not lick at her (reasonably-sized) wound evaporated as the drugs wore off, so on went the cone of shame.

I felt like the worst kind of monster; she was stressed, depressed, and kept bumping into things, spending much of the time on a bed, and one afternoon virtually on my laptop while I worked.

Additionally, she couldn’t go out- the stitches and the disorientation of the cone, ensured that, so her brother was only allowed limited access, as it seems the catflap‘s vet mode, supposed to allow cats in but not out, failed.

Positive news after a day or two when the lump is confirmed as non-cancerous after a lab test.

All in all, a stressful time for her and us, as well as expensive, but she’s recovered well, and the only current tell-tales are a scar that is healing well, and a bit of missing fur, our furry child being happy and relaxed again.