The Punky Prognosis

My Dear Princess and Dear Fellow,

You may wonder how our little chap is now doing. 

He seems much better, to the point where I have decided I shall no longer panic if he has the occasional quiet day. 

It may just be a ruse to score himself some chicken tenders, is what I'm thinking. 

Today he has been running around, talking and for the first time since his op, he decided to pester Caro for food while she ate her dinner. This was fairly standard Punky behaviour so it's good to see that back. While perhaps not as much fun for Caro. 

As you can see from this picture, his staples have come out although the stitches are due out on Monday (sorry, little guy). His fur is growing back nicely and soon he will no longer look like Frankenkitty.

But it's not all good news. The vet has told us that it's very unlikely that Punky's cancer is gone for good. Having developed it once, it will almost certainly return. 

"But he's an older cat," said the vet. "It's more likely that he'll die with cancer, as opposed to of cancer."

Warren the vet's bedside manner could use some work, but I see what he means. We think Punky is around fifteen or sixteen - putting him in his mid to late 70's in human years. 

Warren thinks he only has 18 to 24 months left. Seventeen years would make Punky a feline octogenarian.

However, I'm not so convinced by Warren's guesstimate. Punky has proven himself to be a resilient little fellow. Scrappy would be the word I'd use to describe him. 

It's possible that he won't make it to 2027. But I wouldn't rule it out. And we will make sure that every month he has between then and the end are filled with love, purrs, cuddles and chicken tenders.

S.