There was no getting away from it, we were going to have to go shopping; bread and milk if nothing else, and then there is the sprouts. It was our mistake in thinking that this would be like a normal Saturday, with the scanners not being available until eight in the morning. But it was clear they had been used if not from six then probably all night.
When we drove into the car park we saw that most spaces were already taken, which meant it was going to be madder inside.
We found a place to park, took a trolley and went into the shop.
I am minded to think it was a bit like Lord of the Flies; people hunting and gathering for their family so they would not want for sprouts and egg nog for 24 hours. I did not think we needed much, but with the gangs of people filling the aisles. Worst of all was the milk aisle; I grabbed four bottles of the first stuff I saw, skimmed as it turned out, we would have to survive on white water. I get a large bag of vegetables, some bread and a few other things. But then it was time to make our escape.
We congratulated ourselves on being clever in getting the shopping done, driving home by nine and looking forward to breakfast of croissants and more coffee.
We were just finishing up, when Mulder jumped up on the table, meowing; nothing unusual at that. But what was unusual, was that he was dribbling, more like saliva pouring out of his mouth. Jools looked into his mouth and saw a lump under his tongue.
She called the vet and had an appointment in half an hour's time. Jools took him whilst I tidied up, but whilst washing up, I pondered Mulder and thought it must be a tumour. And when Jools returned, she got out of the car and burst into tears. And as I said yesterday, the prognosis is not good, although there is a chance it might be a cyst. If it is a tumour, it has spread from his neck and would be advanced and will be inoperable. We could see he was already having trouble eating.
The vet said we had noticed it as early as possible, so not to be angry with ourselves.
We are stunned. I mean, he is his bouncing self, good natured and full of life. How can this be? And yet its true.
By an unspoken agreement, we stayed in the rest of the day, surrounded by cats, who, after trying to eat they all went to sleep, and it all seemed a bit surreal. Things seemed so normal, and yet are not normal.I make sausage rolls for lunch, and by then there is football on the radio, so after eating, we do our hobbies, try not to fall asleep on the sofa. Norwich had played, and lost, already at the weekend, so there was no tension for me. Darkness fell outside, I sat on the sofa with Scully sleeping beside me, she gently snoring the day away.
I make breaded chicken with lentil dahl for dinner, a proper ordinary meal not involving chocolate, mince pies, sausage rolls or turkey. One of the few that wouldn't.
More football through the evening, listening to the radio, whilst the cats slept around us.
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