Soooo many things to think about as we age: healthcare, wills, staying independent, retirement accounts, various body part replacements, trivia night. One thing I had never anticipated as a younger person was whether a pet would outlive me. Does anyone remember who did think about it? Hotel tycoon Leona Helmsley who notoriously left her Maltese pup, Trouble, a $12 million trust.
Always an animal lover, I’ve been fortunate to share many of my 80 years with dogs, cats and even a horse when I was 10. My dogs, Tootie, Brandy, Buttermilk and Larry, all lived to be at least 10 years old. My cats Rooster, Peter and Dave all lived many more years.
YoYo Meow, a flame point Siamese, left me in 2019 when he was 18. He was the coolest cat ever. We drove across the country four times with him co-piloting from a pillow on the passenger seat. He was affectionate to everyone, and nothing spooked him. I thought it must be the breed – cream colored with orangish “points” and blue eyes — that made him so easygoing. Turns out, the cat fancier world can’t agree if flame point is even a breed, but I’m a believer.
COVID hit. My job in the tour industry disappeared. I was living alone and petless. Like a lot of people, I took to “window shopping” online. Rather than scrolling Zillow.com where some search for their dream homes, I scoured animal shelter sites for sweet-faced furry guys, such as a long-haired dachshund or a basset-corgi mix like Larry.
One endless quarantine day I visited my town’s shelter website. Low and behold, there was a YoYo Meow look-alike, a flame point Siamese. The blurb under his picture said he was best friends with his orange “kitty condo” roommate.
Off I dashed to the shelter with the admonition from my daughter that, “You better get his orange friend, too.” And I did. I paid the adoption fee, grabbed the paperwork and brought them to their “forever home.”
FOREVER? FOREVER! The shelter’s paperwork indicated both adorable furballs were a year old. Looking at their big eyes set in round faces, I doubted they were even that. I realized if they lived as long as YoYo, I’d need to stick around until at least 90 — nothing I’d had to consider before I was “of an age.”
Kitties Marmy and Lovey have comfortably settled in. They’re healthy and appear fit for all of their nine lives. I’ve decided I can either anguish about their long-term future, hope I hit Power Ball so I can do a Leona, or appreciate the guarantee that I’ll be here for at least another decade, thanks to these boys.
In the meantime, my life now runs according to cat feeding times. Vacations are planned around the cat sitter’s schedule. Dark clothes are cat-hair magnets, as are meals, sofas, rugs, tabletops, the ceiling fan – pretty much everything. My late husband was fond of saying, “Animal hair on everything used to be disgusting. Now we just call it condiments.”
P.S. A judge lowered Trouble’s inheritance to only $2 million, but she managed to live a life of luxury. Leona’s grandchildren received $6 million, with the balance going to charities.
Valerie Hershfield, a former New Hampshire journalist, writes “The Feral Elder” to share experiences and thoughts from folks considered “older.” She hopes in reading her work you might think, “Hey, that happened to me!” And, she says, just maybe you’ll share your own thoughts and experiences. Email feralelder.indepthnh@gmail.com.