Another trip to the vet today, as although the biopsy showed it wasn't cancer, the lump was getting bigger and Maurice was looking unwell, and it has been decided that the best thing is for him to be put to sleep.
I'm so ashamed to say that I just couldn't face it on my own, (Mr P lives away during the week) but our vet assured me that it would be ok to wait a couple of days, and has prescribed an anti inflammatory/painkiller combination drug which should mean that he will be fine until Saturday morning, when Mr P and I will take him in.
I dread it, Maurice has been a damn good chap, a cat beyond rubies and in some ways a link to all things precious. I have a lovely framed photo of a 12 year old Jack with a 12 week old Maurice on the Pembroke table in the sitting room.
I have just given Maurice his medication, and of course sods law decrees that he is looking slightly better, although deep down I know that is just wishful thinking.
When I phoned Mr P at our usual time of 5.30, he asked if there was anything else that could be done (money no object!) but short of either another biopsy or removing the whole lymph gland to identify the cause, which the vet thinks might be TB, even if we did go down that route, which as Maurice is already unwell with the thyroid problem, confirming TB would be pointless, as there is no really effective treatment.
So, tomorrow I'm off to Waitrose to buy a small piece of Stilton, and a pack of their "Essentials" range of smoked salmon, we may only have Maurice until Saturday, but he's going to live like a king until then.