It was a tumor. A four-inch long tumor against her stomach, only a small, round blip of which had poked through the fat along her tummy to the skin. It wasn't on her x-rays 10 weeks ago. She's recovering right now, but is taking a lot longer to shake off the anesthesia than she did last year. The vet thinks we're talking a matter of months at this point, but they thought that last year and she managed to prove them wrong, so maybe we'll still have a little Foxy kitty a year from now--but it's all just wait and see for the moment.
Poor little girl. She'll be getting a lot of love from me when I go home for Christmas, no question.