The tumour's back. Already.
We knew this was coming, but I (probably foolishly) had just started to hope that Parsley was going to be with us for some months yet, now that we'd settled into the chemotherapy. Our luck (such as it was) has sadly run out.
We've discussed our options with the vet and elected not to order any different chemo drugs for him. The potential side-effects of the alternative drugs are much worse than what we've had to deal with already. We've decided that the risk of these side-effects really outweighs the benefits that the new drugs may offer us; even if they're successful, we're still talking a matter of weeks.
So there's little else we can do now, save give him all the love and attention we possibly can, and shake our fist at the universe, for what good that does. We've upped the doses of his current chemo drugs and he seems to be doing ok. As before, you almost wouldn't know he was ill. Yesterday in the garden, he tried to take on the biggest bumblebee I've ever seen. Honestly, it was like the size of a dog. Needless to say, it got away. He's an appalling hunter.
We're hoping to have a couple more weeks with him yet. I'm having a party for my 30th birthday next week, and I've told Parsley I'd really like him to come along. Right now, he's still eating (mostly), still going outside, still starting fights with giant insects, and his poor brother. We'll keep as close an eye on him as we can. He'll let us know when it's time.
Here are some photos of him from the last week or so, still having fun, and looking handsome as ever:
He still loves his growbag in the greenhouse:
And having a snuggle with his brother on the granny chair:
And so he doesn't feel left out, here's Basil enjoying the sunshine in the garden: