He’s our kitty. Kats: we need them; they knead us!
He adopted one of us when he was six weeks old, and me, when he was two. He’s an older kat now. He’s 13, slowing down, and, at times feels those little aches, pains, and discomforts we all understand, suffer, and endure, as part of the aging process. Recently, his vet said his kidneys are failing, and his life expectancy is one year. That said, kats don’t know about counting years so they do what most of us should, anyway: today is all I have, I’ll live it the best I can, with what’s on my plate. My camaraderie with him, now, is I too have things breaking down, hurting, tired, and yes, sometimes just had enough. The power of sharing that with another close, living, breathing loved one is very special. Getting old aint’ for wimps. Mean People Suck!