Thursday, January 25, 2018

The Age of Cats

I was thinking the other day about how old my cats are, and I realised that they are all middle-aged. It’s true that, according to veterinary science, they are seniors. But science also intimates that there is no Santa Claus, so what does it know?

Josie is going to be fourteen this year. She is thinner than she used to be when I first started calling her my Chubs. Her appetite is nothing like it was when she used to invade other cats’ space for their food, and clean the dish of anyone who didn’t finish their meals. But she also displays affection toward me more openly and, now and then, shows her playful side by making rushes at Cammie, then veering away, just to bother her. Cammie thinks this is not playfulness. I worry about Josie the most because of her diminishing weight and loss of appetite, but according to her recent full examination, she is doing well. She has been with me since Christmas-time of 2008. Josie is like the mild, pink-and-fluffy lady who lives next door to you; quiet, but with a sense of fun that allows her to tease her crabby sister.


Tucker will be thirteen. I know this because he had been with his original family for five years, since he was a kitten, when he was returned. He had been wetting outside the litter-box, due to stress at the arrival of a new baby. He had a few instances of that when he came to live with me in 2010, but he settled in soon enough. He has had much to handle in terms of health, including surgery and his diabetes, and his weight is such that he could lend Josie some pounds. My roly poly sausage’s health concerns aren’t due much to his years, though and he has slipped into middle age without much fuss. He reminds me of a fifty year old man, who comes home from work, has dinner, then falls asleep in his chair watching television.


Cammie, on the other hand, fusses a lot, usually because the other beasts are too near her. She is about thirteen years old, as well. This is an estimate, based on the statement of her previous humans. Her bodily problems, like Tucker’s, have nothing to do with her age; they are caused by diet. Otherwise, she is quite fit, and, though she doesn’t often play with me, she will periodically rocket through the apartment, and enjoys climbing the tallest cat-tree at speed. If I can keep her menu controlled, her silver years should be healthy and comfortable. She puts me in mind of an independent lady who thinks the neighbourhood’s gone down-hill…


Parker, my foster-cat, is a fit eleven years of age. Though he has diabetes, and his dosage of insulin is higher than Tucker’s, this orange boy isn’t letting time slow him down. He charges about when he plays, throwing fuzzy mice about and running this way and that. Not all day, mind you, but when he decides to be active, he is very active. He can leap straight up onto a kitchen counter - while I’m preparing his dinner - and though he is a hefty 19 pounds or so, he carries it well. Imagine one of those stocky forty year old guys who likes to brag, gently, about how he still plays football or hockey with the younger guys. That’s my sturdy boy.


Lastly, there is my youngster, Renn. He was about three when he came to live with me, and is eleven and hale, like Parker, but seems more youthful. He has had hardly any troubles with his well-being, barring a couple of teeth that needed removal, and will continue so, knock on wood. Lean and strong, you can see the muscles in his legs when he climbs or scratches, yet he eats like a runway model exhibiting the new Skeletor collection from Armani. How he stays alive, I don’t know, but he thrives. He’s like a New Age devotee existing on granola and wheat germ, while walking briskly uphill just for fun every day.


While my feline roommates are aging, they are aging gracefully (except maybe for Tucker). There will come a time for each of them when they will grow too old for this Earth, and I will have to say good-bye to them. But for now, I am thankful to see them when I come home from work in the afternoons, thankful when I wake in the mornings, and they wait, with varying degrees of patience, for their breakfasts. I remember Tungsten and Bear-Bear, who didn’t live long enough, and am grateful for each day that is added to my age of cats.

22 comments:

  1. She puts me in mind of an independent lady who thinks the neighbourhood’s gone down-hill…

    Apparently Cammie and I are a lot alike.

    I hope all your fur companions will be with you, happy and as healthy as possible, for many years to come.

    Yesterday was the 11th anniversary of Chumley's death, and he too, didn't live long enough (nor did Annie). Like you, I am grateful for each day my two are with me.

    Give all of yours a "smooch" from me, with special cuddles to Renn, whom I can't help but adore. :-)

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    1. It must have been hard on you yesterday. You once wrote that Annie and Chumley gave you the experience to give Nicki and Derry better lives. That's one of the many reasons I'm grateful to Tungsten and Bear-Bear, though they often paid the price of my ignorance.

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  2. A love letter to your cat crew! Beautiful!

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    1. Thank you. I could imagine life without them - I just don't want to.

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  3. guyz.....we hope that day doez knot come round fora loooooooooooooooooooooooooooong time....we N joyed yur journey storeez from A... two dad .....& home

    N catfather....dood.....ewe got grace....does dad seer ee iz lee wanna tell ewe ya don't.....yea....him better think about it huh ♥♥♥ il nostro amico ~~~~ ☺☺☺

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  4. My four are "getting up there," too, I guess. It was a shock to me the other day when I realized that the youngest, Ernie, is about 10 years old! I still think of him as the baby of the household! (Don't tell him I said so, but he still usually acts like a baby...)

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    1. Ha! I know what you mean, though here, I think of Tucker as the baby. I think it's because he loooks like one. A very furry baby.

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  5. Most of my kitties are in this age range too. Tucker's story is sad, nothing would ever make me get rid of a cat, they are family no matter what they do.I am glad he has you now.

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    1. Yes, and wetting outside the box is pretty minor, as behaviour issues go. It's certainly workable.

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  6. What a beautiful post. You know each of your cats so well, and you describe all of them with so much love. My cats range from 18 to 2 and I've had all of them since they were kittens. I can't imagine life with out them. You're quite right, John - every day we have together is a blessing and something to be thankful for.

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    1. Eighteen years, and from kittenhood! That's wonderful. And then there's the youngster at two. What an age-range.

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  7. Your post shows, as have all of them, the love and dedication to their health and quality of life you show them each day. It is so warming to my heart to see someone who returns the love of their fur family. They are as glad to see you each afternoon as you are to see them. I know without asking that they show that same joy to you each day on your return.

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  8. It is awful that Tucker was surrendered for wetting outside the box. He was the winner though in coming to you.
    We don't really notice them ageing until they become ill. Flynn still had a kittenish look about him up until about 6 months before he had to leave us.
    I love your descriptions of them.

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  9. Your 'beasts' are so beloved and so lucky to have you as their caretaker and friend. We take them all into our hearts and love them deeply, it never ends even as time runs its course and we are separated from them. I have 3 who are hovering in between 15-16, I don't know their exact ages but they were all young cats when they were 'dropped' at my doorstep. I have my concerns over that, but I keep in mind how grateful I am to have them doing well so far.

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  10. Your beautiful post has brought this quote to mind.

    The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other’s lives.

    They are our family in every way, aren’t they.
    I’ve adopted a 9+ year old kitty boy from the shelter.
    He’s a sweet older fellow that wants a toy mouse and a warm place to nap.




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    1. Congratulations on the new family member! He may be a bit disoriented now, but he'll soon learned he drew a winning number.

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  11. Your comparisons with middle aged people are wonderful and gave me a laugh. You know the forty year old guy who brags about playing hockey with the youngsters is really only in it for the beers afterwards. Your cats are so fortunate to have you as their devoted companion and I am sure will live long and joyful lives with you.

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    1. Parker's going to be disappinted in the beverages he is served afterawrd then.

      I hope they live long, but even if they don't, I hope they enjoy the lives they live.

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  12. I'm rapidly approaching 14, and I gotta say- mom and dad sure do spoil me. I should thank my lucky stars they adopted me out of a bunch of young'uns almost a year ago now. I do know that dad has a special place in his heart for us older ones.

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    1. The competition for adoption is tough with so many cats waiting. I'm glad you were chosen. You clearly found your home.

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  13. I laughed at your description of Tucker with the accompanying photo. In fact, I laughed at all the descriptions but that one seemed to match the best to me. I agree with an earlier poster, you know your cats well and it's quite clear they are well aware that you love and care for them "purrfectly".

    Eileen

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