Bad news is bad, even when expected.
Last year, our senior Oriental Queen, Champion Onapromise Pyanfar, Ross's and Xolo's mum and Kurt's granny, had a growth removed from her chin. To our vet's astonishment, it turned out to be malignant, and we kept a close watch on the place to see if it came back. It didn't, and we started to relax. However, the week before last, when Pyanfar rolled on her back to have her ample tummy scratched, I felt a series of lumps along the line of her nipples. This is very bad news, for breast cancer in cats is 90% fatal.
We rushed her to the vet, and last Tuesday, she went in for surgery. All the lumps were removed, and the tissue sent for biopsy. Today, we had to take Flash for his annual injections and Quillan for his 100 day check on how his mouth is doing. Flash and Quills are fine, but the biopsy results were just in. Cancer, as expected, and a lot of it. She is not expected to survive more than six months at best. For the moment, though, she is home, sprawled on my bed, her adoring offspring in attendance. There is always hope, of course, but she is eleven years old and has had a terrific life. That's the last surgery though, and she will be allowed to live in peace until the pain is too much, then she will be put to sleep.
We still have eight cats, but by the end of the year it will probably be six. Even though it is the two oldest who are under threat, it is still very, very sad.