Yesterday I took my cat Phoebe to the vet for her rabies vaccine, and the vet gave me the option of a 1-yr shot or a 3-yr shot. I picked the 3-yr. The vet noted from Phoebe’s file that she’s 16, and complimented me on my optimistic outlook. It made me sad to think that it will be an extraordinary thing if the old girl (Phoebe, not the vet) is still around in 3 years.
This also brought to mind an episode of M*A*S*H* where Henry Blake received a box full of check stubs from his wife along with a request that he balance the checkbook. He told Radar that there was a vet bill for $90 (or some such amount), and pondered "what could she have done for a 15-yr old cat, given it a facelift?"
What's the longest living or oldest pet you've ever had?
When I was in first grade, my parents got me a goldfish for my birthday. I named it Goldie (clever!), and it lived until my sophomore year in high school, when a case of Ick swept the aquarium. I had no idea goldfish could live that long, but ol’ Goldie really hung in there.
Don’t worry, Katie, my cat is 16, too, and she’s still going strong! She even had a fall from a second-story balcony a couple of years ago, and had a complete recovery. She lives a pretty posh life, though, with my sister at the beach. So we always say Kitty retired to Florida. (About the name, I know, I know…what can I say, we were little.) She basically lounges in the sun by the pool and chases the occasional lizard.
Although, now that I think about it, its kind of tempting fate to talk about how well she’s doing, isn’t it?
Nevermind, I take it all back! <knocking furiously on wood>
My cat, Squirt, just turned 15. She’s in great health–well, except that she only has about 4 teeth left and she’s having some difficulty seeing, and she has had a senior moment or two. But when she’s in the mood, she can play like a kitten (although not for very long) and she likes to bop her little brother in the head with her front paws. She’s the warmest lap cat in the free world.
My mom’s Shi-Tzu, Kricket (a Shi-Tzu is one of those little dustmoppy dogs) will be sixteen this Easter. She’s deaf as a post and her eyesight is pretty poor too (the dog that is, not my mom).
She does still have creepy accurate sense of smell though and still remembers me by scent.
Our dog Muffin, who my parents brought home a few years before I was born, lived to the age of seventeen. She was in awful shape at the end – lots of heart problems – and had to be put to sleep. Our oldest animal that’s still living is Bumper (don’t ask, I have no clue where the name came from), my sister’s cat, who will be twelve this May.
Zachy the cat lived 18 years. He was in pretty good health, but one evening we realized we hadn’t seen him all day. Found him under the Christmas tree, way in the back by the wall. He always did like it back there.
Prissy was 17. I will remember her death forever. I was watching this Disney movie about an alien cat who wore a collar that allowed it to talk, and right at the point where the bad guy stole the collar from the cat, Prissy dashes into the room right in front of me, runs into the vacuum cleaner, and collapses. Biggest tear inducer: she died purring. I never did finish the movie.
But this isn’t a pet death thread. Sorry for the apparent hijack.
I was all set up to brag about my black fish (I think it was a Molly, but I really don’t know) that lived 8 years til I read this. He was an evil bastard. He killed all my sister’s goldfish. We had no idea those kind of fish should have never even been in the same brandy snifter together.
But I have a friend whose cat died 3 days shy of being 20 years old. My friend was went off the deep end, missed almost a whole week of work, had to go on anti-depressants, and held a funeral for that kitty that rivaled John F. Kennedy’s. She’d had it all of her adult life.
My friends had a cat that died just short of it’s twenty-second birthday. It was old enough to legally drink and vote. They claimed it liked vodka and usually voted Republican.
My grandparents had a farm cat that was 20 when I last visited them, and it was in excellent health. If it’s still alive, it would be about 22.
I have a cat, Mojo, who is 15 years, 8 months. He’s had diabetes for 3 years, so has daily insulin shots, but is otherwise pretty happy and healthy. Last week he brought a mouse to the door, so he’s still got his old ability intact. I’ve lived with him since his birth (had his mom), and he is the best cat of the many I’ve been fortunate to know. If he could open the damned cans and door his ownself, he would. I hope he sticks around for a long while more.
My family adopted a stray when I was about 4 or 5, and when I was a sophomore in college, I would start all calls to home with “Is the cat dead yet?” Finally died at 17. My current feline, Scooter just turned ten in January, so now he is ten years, three months, and six da… Scooter? … Scooter? … Stop playing! … Wake up! … Scooter???
My Labrador lived for about seventeen years. I was the only person that could go near him and do anything I wanted. One week after getting him, he ran out into the highway. He lived through it,and would take off for days into the marsh behind our house when he got loose. He would never go past the corner of the house’s front though.
Other family memebers that were born during later years could approach him, but that was it. He did tricks for me on command. I got him at about age three, and he defended me against anybody. For a couple years my great grandmother watched me. She was very nasty for minor things. She got a willow branch to hit me, if I didn’t pick up some toys, or finish my meal. I went into my dog’s area, and he would have ripped her to pieces. I spent the time there, until mother got home. Please remember that my great grandma was born in the 1800’s.
The last few years were though on Prince and me. I didn’t want to get rid of him, but he was very sick. Throwing up blood every morning in the end. Sadly I had to let him go.
My family had a poodle, Tzas. He was 16 years old, I believe. Not like any other poodle I’ve ever heard of. He wasn’t a yippie dog… he only barked when there was something wrong. As he got older, he had more and more problems (cataracts, his back, his hearing… just to name a few) Finally, he was having seizures so bad that we had to have him put to sleep. I was living on my own at the time. The funny thing is, the next time I came home was for my grandfather’s funeral and when I walked in the door of the house, it wasn’t Pappaw that I was thinking of. It was how the house wasn’t right without Tzas. I bawled like a baby.
On a “Kids will say the darndest things” note… We buried Tzas in the backyard, near the spot on the lanai that he used to like to lay. My niece, who was 9 at the time, asked my step-mom if she ever “took Tzas out to look at him.” Needless to say, my niece has never had to deal with death before!
I have a Siamese Fighting Fish (betta), named American Beauty for his red color, who turned a year old on February 26. That may not seem like much, but he’s the longest living betta I’ve had and I’ve had quite a few bettas in the course of two/three years. He’s still going strong, too. I’m hoping he’ll reach the ripe old age of 1 1/2 years.
I had a beautiful chihuahua who died at about 20. He may have been older. He was a sweet, loveable dog who, when he was younger and before his face turned white, looked like the Taco Bell dog.
Our oldest animal that’s still living is Bumper (don’t ask, I have no clue where the name came from), my sister’s cat, who will be twelve this May.