Well, not everything's goin' my way...poor Ben's mouth hasn't healed as much as it should have. A quick swab would indicate that cancer's unlikely, a biopsy would require trauma to both cat and wallet, so the vet's giving him a run of steroids. If it's a particular type of disorder, the name of which I've already forgotten, the steroids will clear it up right away--it'd be weird for them to be in the mouth rather than lips, but god knows, animals are strange. And if it doesn't clear up, then...well, we'll figure it out. I have immense faith in my vet, and I would cheerfully bankrupt myself for Ben.*
Meanwhile the big fella's now needing even more meds twice a day, so he'll be getting the Death From Above treatment a lot more than he'd like. (Thank god Kevin was around this morning--Ben was Not In The Mood, and became a two man operation.) Poor guy.
Fortunately other than the mouth thing, he's healthy, apparently happy, beating up Angus regularly, and so seems to be doing well.
*Well, perhaps not CHEERFULLY, but damnit, he's only five, he's healthy as an ox, and he's my buddy.