Tick, tick, tick

You may think this is just a cat.  You are mistaken.  It's a ticking time bomb.

I knew I was right to be alarmed by Cyril’s (the three-legged monster cat) apparent docility.  The storm clouds are gathering.  Cyril is chipped, a wise move I felt in view of his escape attempts.  But I’ve made a terrible mistake.  I’ve had a letter from the chip manufacturers and, guess what, the chip he has had inserted is one of a faulty batch.  Now the manufacturers have tried to sound all reassuring, saying that the vet just needs to check it out and maybe insert another chip if the current one isn’t working properly.  Ha!  They aren’t fooling me.  Reading between the lines it’s clear that there is, in fact, an evil cat overlord at work.  All he needs to do is flick a switch and all the cats implanted with the ‘faulty’ chips (including Cyril) will rise up to destroy their human slaves.  I’m keeping a wary eye on him and if he starts making his way upstairs with a kitchen knife clenched between his teeth I’ll be ready.

On a more mundane note I’ve had my appointment with the oncologist.  There’s been no change.  This was both disappointing and pleasing (yes, conflicting emotions, truly I am a deep and complex woman).  I really wanted to be told that the cancer was shrinking but, on the other paw, I’m relieved that it hasn’t grown.  So the plan is for me to have two more lots of swamp juice (chemo) and then carry on with the herceptin and start on tamoxifen with another scan in November.  So it’s a case of keep on keeping on.