About 7 years ago we rescued 3 cats. 2 were only kittens but one was 3 years old. Pam picked one of the kittens and we collaborated on the other one but I picked the 3 year old. A maincoon mix he was mine the moment I saw him Fairly good size he weighs about 18 lbs and is big boned with a big head.
I named him Duke. Call him Bigguy for short. He's my "man-cat", my pard, My confidant, my partner-in-crime. Sometimes I think that HE thinks hes a dog. He will most of the time come when I call him or even just hold my hand out. He sleeps with me at least for a while most every night.
Over the years we have bonded. It has just recently dawned on me where we are in our relationship. If cat years run like or similar to dog years Ol' Duke is 70 now. I'm 75. I am now aware of the fact that an old man and an old cat is a source of comfort for both.
When we first met we were both relatively young and frisky. Now it seems that we are both comfortably old. Back then I still wasn't ready to admit that I was old and Duke still had a lot of kitten in him. We had our little games we played together and had our rituals.
Duke has always been laid back, easy goin' and very gentle natured. The other two tend to get a little rowdy now and then but the Bigguy don't pay 'em no mind. The both learned long ago not to try anything like that with him. He has that Woodrow Call attitude workin'; He don't tolerate rude behavior. Now he gets nothing but respect....and a wide berth.
Now he's slowed down some and I finally and freely admit that I'm old. You'll hear it said that old age is a state of mind. That is true...to a point. The Lord knows I stood my ground with my head held high and a hard step in my walk way past some that had already conceded defeat. But you reach a point when you gotta face it. It happens to everyone. The lucky ones that is.
So now Ole Duke and I mostly just lay around the house together. Miss Pam makes fun of us but we don't care. I'm takin' good care of him. He gets regular check ups and stays current on all his shots, as all our cats do. We are very comfortable together. He is in my lap or on my legs when I'm in my recliner watching tv. At the breakfast table he has a stool next to my chair and he sits there all through breakfast, mostly sleeping. He follows me around the house and if I don't speak to him often enough he will bump me with his head or gimme a "meeeooow."
Yessir, I'm convinced, an old man needs an old cat.
I named him Duke. Call him Bigguy for short. He's my "man-cat", my pard, My confidant, my partner-in-crime. Sometimes I think that HE thinks hes a dog. He will most of the time come when I call him or even just hold my hand out. He sleeps with me at least for a while most every night.
Over the years we have bonded. It has just recently dawned on me where we are in our relationship. If cat years run like or similar to dog years Ol' Duke is 70 now. I'm 75. I am now aware of the fact that an old man and an old cat is a source of comfort for both.
When we first met we were both relatively young and frisky. Now it seems that we are both comfortably old. Back then I still wasn't ready to admit that I was old and Duke still had a lot of kitten in him. We had our little games we played together and had our rituals.
Duke has always been laid back, easy goin' and very gentle natured. The other two tend to get a little rowdy now and then but the Bigguy don't pay 'em no mind. The both learned long ago not to try anything like that with him. He has that Woodrow Call attitude workin'; He don't tolerate rude behavior. Now he gets nothing but respect....and a wide berth.
Now he's slowed down some and I finally and freely admit that I'm old. You'll hear it said that old age is a state of mind. That is true...to a point. The Lord knows I stood my ground with my head held high and a hard step in my walk way past some that had already conceded defeat. But you reach a point when you gotta face it. It happens to everyone. The lucky ones that is.
So now Ole Duke and I mostly just lay around the house together. Miss Pam makes fun of us but we don't care. I'm takin' good care of him. He gets regular check ups and stays current on all his shots, as all our cats do. We are very comfortable together. He is in my lap or on my legs when I'm in my recliner watching tv. At the breakfast table he has a stool next to my chair and he sits there all through breakfast, mostly sleeping. He follows me around the house and if I don't speak to him often enough he will bump me with his head or gimme a "meeeooow."
Yessir, I'm convinced, an old man needs an old cat.
