The Stanley Report

Stanley's thyroid continues to be medication, he was high again, so Doc ordered "up the tapazole". Unfortunately, this medication is more expensive than replacement thyroid meds, since I cannot afford to nuke his thyroid. Hmm. I should do the math, really. Hard to prognose a cat with an unknown future.

Stanleys' now is wonderful. He enjoys having his very own house, with his very own human. When I visit, Stanley will happily cuddle, but eventually he'll leave, and lounge at Dad's feet.

If Dad isn't home, Stanley will gladly snuggle on your lap, and when you do have to move, he'll try to push you back down again, mreowr-ing his mild annoyance. He has his own backyard, with a soft bunch of dirt handy for business, and the area is safe and secure. Stanley can't jump very well, from an old injury perhaps, he won't say. And since Stanley arrived declawed, he cannot climb out, either. He has a loud meow, which he knows how to use. He and Dad seem to have a nice little routine worked out.

Dad went away for a week, and I was able to enjoy Dad's wonderful house for a few days, in order to keep Stanley fed/pilled/accompanied. Stanley was not thrilled by having canines in his house, but adapted quickly, as Stanley does know I have two dogs. Plus, I am the original food lady, and Stanley does love to be fed. Both dogs quickly decided it was just easier to give Stanley the upstairs.
Stanley is BosS, and Flip avoided his baleful glare/hiss/spats, while Blaze just looked sadly hurt & confused by Stanley's incomprehensible wrath. By the end of our little stay, Blaze finally managed to sniff Stanley's butt. Once.
Stanley wasn't looking.

Humpfh.

Dad has reported Stanley's interest in Dad's Scotch whiskey. Stanley was allowed two licks. It's something else they have in common:)

And something else I have to worry about...
But not now. Now is good, for Dad and Stanley.