He started petting her and her skin slid off of part of her chest/neck area. Yes, it could be a cyst from some kind of random infection. But I'm going to bet my money on it being a mast cell tumor. A quickly growing tumor at that, since she had a full work up on Tuesday and it wasn't there, and we've been picking her up to feed her and medicate her for weeks.
And as I looked at it, I had flashbacks of Riley's cancer fight. She's sleeping in all the same dark places. She's refusing to eat, just like he did. She's drinking copious amounts and having neurological issues in her back end just like he did.
We took her to the Animal ER, where they were unable to confirm at cancer diagnosis. I'm not sure they have the lab accessible there to determine the issue. But our goal was to make her comfortable until we could get her to our vet tomorrow.
And then, I'm guessing, we'll be saying goodbye.
All I can remember is September 1999 when we were cleaning out the cages at the Fair Lakes, Va., Petsmart. I'd clean. MacTroll would check ears, nails and do some brushing while I disinfected the cages, put down clean paper, clean litter and refilled food and water bowls. "MacTroll, hand me the kitten."
"Look at how cute she is!"
"We do not need a third cat."
"No, I know. But Looseyfur doesn't like cuddles and Clawdio loves you. Can't I have one that likes to cuddle with me?"
"Let's think about it."
24 hours later...
"I can't believe we're adopting a third cat..."