When we got home, I found her on Peter’s chair, asleep. The tumor in her face has grown since we’ve been gone, and now her face is obviously puffed out. I can’t, I think, put off much longer taking her on that last trip to the vet.
I have to remind myself that she’s in pain, and I can’t fix that. And soon the tumor will grow enough to block her nasal passages.
So, fellow cat people, send good cat-thoughts out to Beeper.