Hidden for those wot aren't all that interested:
Before I went to pick up my boy, I set up the outbuilding that serves as our gym with a litter box, food, water, and a nice fluffy towel on the camp chair. In theory, I could have let Thomas out into the wild once more, but I wanted to keep him in overnight to be sure he got the anaesthesia fully out of his system. Also, there was the possibility (note: now an actuality) of oozing blood from the snippity-snip incision.
Everyone at the vet's office was completely charmed by Handsome Tom. I spoke with four techs, all of whom commented on his beauty and his sweetness. "He's really special," was uttered more than once. Oh, sure, there was one dodgy moment early in the day when he bolted from his carrier, but the tech simply placed her hand near to the ground and called to him. Tom's tail sprang up and he trotted right back to the tech, snuggling a bit when she lifted him up. I know because she absolutely gushed to me about how lovely he is. Apparently none of the staff were too keen to look at his Fe-Luke results. "He's such a love, it would've been heartbreaking if the test was positive!" There was much rejoicing when the results were clean. Turns out he's considerably younger than we thought - about two years old - and other than the tapeworm he's in remarkably good health.
By the way, all the while I was chatting with the tech, I had my fingers through the door of Tom's carrier. He rubbed his head along my fingers, purring like a mad thing. When I got him home and into the gym, I set the carrier on the ground and let him come out of it in his own time. Which was about two and a half seconds. He took in the digs, noted the litterbox, and then crawled, purring wildly, into my lap. I ended up hanging with him for about an hour. At one point I dozed off in the very uncomfortable camp chair. Tom snuggled hard against me, paws wrapped about my arm and his chin atop that.
So... tomorrow - assuming the bleeding has stopped - I let him back out. Don's already looking into installing a kitty door into the gym. I'm lining up Tom's three week booster shot appointment, and keeping in mind that I'll have to take him in for de-worming every couple of months. He's our boy now, darn it, and we're going to make sure he's healthy and happy. The big ol' mush.
Oh! One more thing: he's using the litterbox. Clearly, the boy is a genius.
In non-HT news, I made the trek to the laundromat today. I figured I'd do every bit of laundry I had so that we'll be okay until the machine is *crosses fingers* fixed on Friday. Four loads, that was. And do you know how much each load cost? THREE FRELLING FIFTY!!!!! Three fifty! That's insane! For three fifty a load, I really shouldn't have to deal with the children pushing each other around in the laundry carts, or the ten year old who keeps putting crap in his mouth even though his mother has told him forty seven times not to do so, or that selfsame mother who clearly doesn't intend to follow up her threats with any consequences, or the cranky toddler who whinged for twenty five minutes, or crappy soap operas on the TV. Just sayin'.