Bless the boy.
Boe is still hanging in there. He looks utterly pitiful. His jaw is really swollen now, and it all a bit icky. Still, he is completely and utterly himself. He eats, and purrs, makes biscuits in his blanket, and looks happy about sitting in the sun. So I don’t think it is time yet.
He can eat, but it’s sloppy and he drools. The tumor part has little ulcerations around it and bleeds and scabs over repeatedly. (Apparently this is a typical thing, cancerous tissue just not being healthy stuff.) And though he still grooms, he isn’t really good at it either. And though I can, and do, bathe him, I’m not really good at it either, and the icky stuff is really sticky and doesn’t clean off easily.
But he goes about his kitty business, supervising the younger cats (he approves of them), going out and walking his route, sitting on the porch in the sun, and generally still being a cat for however many more days he has.
So there he was wandering happily about, great huge jaw, messy front (little bits of clotting and ickiness), and of course still with the limpy walk from his no-good knee caps. Sigh.
One of my neighbors, whoever it is, had Animal Services trap him (again), and Animal Services took him to the local emergency vet, thinking he’d been hit by a car. He’s chipped, so they called us.
Despite the 75$ emergency fee to spring him, I am working resolutely to try to appreciate having neighbors who care enough to try to rescue a cat, even if Boe didn’t really need a rescue. And it is interesting to think of him with his Secret Cat Life that includes hanging out wherever this rescue-minded person observes him.
Animal Services folk won’t rat on the person, so we can’t communicate directly. I have though delivered a little screed up and down the block on doorsteps and posted on the telephone poles describing his situation and asking please not to rescue him again. At the very least, I don’t think he really likes the whole trapping experience.
The good thing is that as long as the vet had him, we asked them give him a thorough bath. And he charmed them all, being a charming boy. Literally, they all were coming out and telling us what a great cat he is. True enough.
He’s home again, being patted, fed fancy feast and baby fudz (his choice), and sleeping stretched out on the comfy blanket over a heating bag. I’m glad no one has told him he’s terminal.