But it's been a week of memories. Today my beloved elderly tabby went to the vet. At almost 18 it's no shock that's he's gradually ageing, fading and struggling. He'd developed a cyst on his shoulder which has grown rather rapidly so I thought it ought to be checked. Little was I expecting the big "C" word to be bandied around, and secondary "C" at that.

He was my first baby, just the two of us before son #1 came along. Credit where credit due, apart from the occasional "Timmy temper tantrum" he has coped with a husband and four children's arrivals, taking each step on the family ladder in his stride. He's always ruled the roost, dictated terms and has my mother completely under his paw. (Who else brings raw pork fillet for the cat after each new arrival??!)

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