I took Kitten for her follow-up vet visit. She was feistier this time, so I took that as a good sign. She heard me getting the cat carrier out and hid under the bed. I had to coax her out with banana bread cricket bars, which they sadly no longer make. I don't know why, but she loves these bars more than I do. She wakes from a sound sleep when she smells one in the house.
Her leg is still swollen, but at least it's no longer bleeding. The prognosis is it's likely a tumor. However, she's rapidly approaching 16 years old, and I'm unwilling to subject her to a bunch of medical nonsense to increase her life. I feel the same way about me. Death with dignity for all.
For now, I'm managing her wound and not doing a bunch of biopsies and surgeries. She's eating well and limping gracefully around, tending to her feline duties.
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