Warning: medical content may disturb

Poor old Bazzy. Over the weekend I’d noticed he’d been in the wars from rumbling with the neighbourhood cats. I think they don’t like him because he’s black.
Yesterday I get home from work and notice his wee face is all lopsided. On closer inspection, I see that the whole of one side of his face is swollen with the world’s grossest abscess. It’s stretched his skin so tight that I can almost see the ooze gurgling around inside.
Frantically calling all the vets (they’re all closed) I watch Basil like he’s a landmine. He doesn’t seem fazed, although is not keen on eating. Hardly surprising when most of your face is swimming in pus. He chases flies and jumps onto the couch and rubs against my legs but only on his good side. I have an Uncontrollable, Irresistable urge to stick a pin in it. The emergency vet I called said, don’t play with it. I poke it a bit. Basil leaps away. I put towels and sheets on all his favourite sleeping places and shut him out of my room. Of course when I get up in the morning he’s sleeping on the one place I didn’t put a sheet on but thankfully, it hasn’t popped. In fact, it’s twice the size. Basil now looks like a bulldog who’s chewing on a massive wad of tobacco. Or, the Elephant Man. I notice the abscess has developed a small leak and is oozing down his face. Gagging quietly, I stuff him into his cat cage and we pootle off to the vet, Basil questioning why the whole way. The vet goes, oooh that’s a good one! Normally they pop before they get this big! I feel proud. Then the vet ruins my day by saying he’s going to have to keep Basil in and drain it later on. But I want to seeeeeee! Repressing my urge to ask him to take photos I leave Basil whingeing in his cage and head off to work. Poor little guy. I pick him up at lunchtime so will let you know how he is.