It was seems like a lifetime ago, I posted this.
The woman who took our cats when we went to Cairo, recently moved back to the east cost. Roscoe was up for adoption again. The woman wanted us to just house sit him long enough for her to get settled. But there was no way we (cough I cough) could take him back and give him up again.
So he came “home” to end his days with us. He is 15 or so years old now. He was a feral kitten that was abandoned and not even weaned when KD found him.
He has far outlived his expected life span. But he is ours again.
And even though he prefers The Good Doctor’s lap, I no longer go to the bathroom alone.