My boy Tiger will be 17 years old sometime this spring. I still remember the day all those years ago when I went to pick him and his brother Fluffy up. There were four kittens in all, two gingers and two grey tabbys, and I couldn't make up my mind whether to take the two gingers or the two greys or one of each and eventually I settled for one of each. They were about 3 - 4 months old and that was in May or June 1993. Poor Fluffy developed leukaemia and died at the vets in May 2003 three weeks before we moved from town to live in the country. I was sad I wasn't with him when he died and sad he didn't get to enjoy the wide open spaces which I know he would have loved. He is buried here near the river.
Tiger is living with chronic kidney failure, diagnosed last year but is doing well. He is under veterinary care and on medication every day which helps his kidneys. He is a shadow of his former self, very thin, very bony. His teeth and mouth are not great but he is not in any obvious discomfort. He has a great appetite, ambles about, but likes to spend most of his time in the kitchen and overall is in good form. Still when he jumps up on my lap now, I give him an extra tight hug. Usually he waits until late at night when all the other cats have been looked after and then he'll hop up, purr into my face and we spend some me time together.
Photo above shows the two of them sometime before Fluffy left us.
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