After Selene – No Regrets

I wrote about my cat companion Selene's passing in poetry, see this link, and in prose on facebook [which I later cross-posted here, see previous post]. So it may not be news to you. Now I'm left with the aftermath – the grieving, the readjusting, new beginnings and explorations, reflections, realisations ... not in nice, neat, linear order, but all jumbled up with each other.  Though I can only write of them one at a time, I expect it will be a disordered, piecemeal kind of a narrative. But perhaps I'm only writing it for me, anyway. I want a record. I don't know if I'll want it later, but I do now. So here is the first bit.

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After she had gone, and the vet had taken her body away (I am not sentimental about vacated bodies, and didn't want a shrine in the back yard) I eventually thought to pull a card for some commentary or advice from Spirit. But which deck? My beautiful Voyager Tarot, which is very deep and spiritual, which I use for professional readings? My new Everyday Witch Tarot which is sweet and friendly and full of cats? But no, I was drawn to my (also new) Rebel oracle deck. As always, it gave me excellent advice:

I think that's pertinent advice for anyone who has lost someone close. Irrational as it may be, one does start thinking, 'If only I'd done this – or not done that.' It's probably natural and human to do so, but it's a useless enterprise.  We're likely sweating about tiny things, and in any case we can never know what difference they would have made, if any.

The night before Andrew ended up in hospital and never came home, we had a small glass of white wine with our dinner. The way he looked at the glass afterwards, I knew he'd have liked another. But he didn't ask and I didn't offer. We both had in mind the doctor's warning that he must be very sparing with alcohol, as it could exacerbate his condition. Afterwards I often thought, 'Why didn't I let him enjoy one last glass? It wouldn't have made any difference anyway.' But at the time neither of us knew that, and we didn't know he would never drink another. I feel sure he forgot all about it very quickly; and it wasn't as if he was deprived of something to which he was passionately devoted, merely of a passing moment of mild self-indulgence. I might as well have reminded myself of all the kind and caring things I did for him. But no – we love to torture ourselves with petty guilts.

Similarly, I began thinking about the way Selene had sniffed the scent of my ham and my smoked trout, a few days before she went. She was on a strict, medicated diet and could not have anything else. Usually I didn't bring home food she wasn't allowed, but friends had left these in my house, and I wasn't going to waste them, so I ate them in front of her (hurriedly!) and told her sternly she could not have any. Too late I thought that, when I knew her time was up, I could have given her a taste then. What difference could it have made, by then? And it might have given her pleasure. But it didn't even occur to me until afterwards.

The truth is, I don't know what would have happened. She might have vomited it up, as she did her last meal. She might have sniffed it and walked away, as she did her other food those last two days. I don't think she was dwelling on it past the moment! And for sure, once she was dead, she no longer needed physical pleasures anyway. But there I was, torturing myself. The card is right – I should forgive myself instead.

Yes, well said, Rebel Deck! Now, when those little 'what if?' thoughts niggle at me, I tell myself firmly, 'Let that shit go!' And I do. (Repeatedly. But it gets easier and lasts longer.)

Goodbye to Selene

Cross-posted from facebook status

The most beautiful and also most intelligent and intuitive cat is no longer in the world, though she was when I posted her picture as my profile photo this morning, shortly after taking it. Despite having numerous illnesses, not all of which could even be treated, she kept outwardly very well until recently. A routine check-up and tests a few weeks ago showed her to be doing well at that point, all things considered. However, since Friday she stopped eating, rested a lot, became thin and seemed to be weak although she could still jump on the bed. She slept on top of me most of last night, and was sweet and affectionate to the last. I believe she knew and was OK with it; we did a fair bit of telepathising. 

By this morning she obviously couldn't get comfortable, shifting position a lot. I knew yesterday that I would be phoning the vet first thing this morning, and luckily they were able to come here early this afternoon. 

Selene and I sat outside in 'her' back yard for part of the morning, which she always enjoyed, and the sun even came out for us a while. But the concrete step seemed hard on her skin-and-bones (I know she doesn't look thin in the photos, but she was) so I brought her inside to the mat just inside the back door where she could still look out. When the time came, she slipped away quickly and peacefully. The vet said, 'Yes, she was ready'.

I'm a mess of course, and don't want to talk about it any more at this point, or about anything at all really, but still very thankful for all that this beautiful being gave me and taught me.

Selene Turns Nine, and Other Milestones

Selene turned nine years old yesterday, and has now been living with me for one year, two and a half months.

She has become resigned to being an indoor cat again, as the extreme weather means there are too many mosquitos outside. Neither of us wants to go outdoors in that sort of weather anyway!

She follows me about like a dog

She usually spends her mornings in the spare bedroom, enjoying the pheromones coming from a dispenser plugged into the power point. Afternoons, if I am home she follows me about like a dog, happy to hang with me wherever I am; lying on the floor somewhere near, or beside me on the couch in the evenings if I watch TV. 

And she has playful times when she chases her toys around the floor – toy mice or tiny plastic balls with bells in them – or I dangle long fluffy cords for her to leap and catch. 

When I go to bed, she hurries to come too, snuggles up against me and purrs. (Yes, these days she often purrs, albeit very faintly, always to express her pleasure at being next to me.) I leave dry food and water out for her overnight. If she gets off the bed to go and have a snack, when she returns she always comes straight up to me and greets me all over again before settling down. Eventually – after I put the light out, but not immediately after – she moves to the foot of the bed and stretches out to sleep.

She likes me to stroke her, and I'm happy to oblige. If I'm reading in bed and stroking her with one hand, she looks up if I stop for a moment, to politely ask for more. If I'm walking around the house and she's lying on the floor, she requests (with body language) a pat as I go past. She still doesn't miaow – unless I happen to step on her if she's come up soundlessly behind me. Then I find out she is only non-vocal by choice; she is quite capable of a hearty yelp!


[Update on the update, two days later: The purring is becoming ever louder and longer and she now stays snuggled against me all night, to my great joy. Could this be the result, not only of pheromones etc, but also of my projecting light and love at her purposefully, every time I remember? Of course it earns her extra strokings anyway, and so the bond grows closer.]


Allergy update

As well as the pheromones to calm her, I give her feline tranquilisers which are largely Vitamin B. (All this on vet's advice.) Something's working! She now submits to an occasional dab of the calendula cream prescribed for her mosquito allergy. The first time she stayed still and allowed me to put it on, she then washed it all off again with her paw! But now she doesn't even bother doing that. She must have realised the stuff doesn't hurt her.

There are still limits. I can't even attempt to put cream on her poor, denuded belly. However, it is starting to grow fur again, a fine fuzz. The vet also prescribed some tablets I was able to crush up and put in her wet food, and she took them without any trouble. They seem to have done the trick.

She is now costing me a fair bit for the pheromones and Vitamin B, and the expensive foods which keep her teeth clean and her gullet free of furballs – but I don't grudge it (well, not TOO much) for the sake of keeping her healthy and happy.

It's HER home now

She's comfortable in her home now, has explored every room, and exudes the confidence of ownership.  If there are unaccustomed noises on the street outside – voices or car sounds that don't belong – she comes to attention and inspects the situation through the flywire at the front door. I'm glad to say she never shows any inclination to go out that door. I have a look too, and explain to her calmly what's going on, then she ignores it again.

When someone knocks on the door, she disappears. You wouldn't know there was a cat here. If they stay awhile, and she decides she likes their energy, she'll eventually come out to say hello – though rarely with men, whom she distrusts most. She trusts me more and more, but I think it's fair to say she trusts her own judgment best and will always be slightly suspicious even of me.

Understanding each other

But we rub along, having come to an understanding of each other. She amuses the heck out of me at times, with her funny little ways. I don't know that I amuse her, but she is very patient and tolerant with me when I am slow to understand what she's trying to communicate. And there are times when I don't misunderstand, I refuse. (Such as feeding her what I consider too much to be healthy.) She has learned to understand both 'No' and 'Yes', and also 'Fish!' when I'm about to give her a treat.

'You are the most beautiful cat alive,' I tell her. This wording stops me feeling guilty towards the ghosts of previous felines, who were all beautiful too. At times I still miss Freya and Levi acutely, but that is a separate matter from my relationship with Selene. They were my precious children, no matter how old they got; she is my house-mate and companion, becoming 'family' but in a different way. I address her as 'girlfriend', 'honey-bubble' and 'darling'. I inform her that she is my treasure. She gazes back at me meaningfully, and arches her head for a pat.

The perfect cat for me at this time in my life 

I am not blind to the fact that she is the perfect cat for me at this time in my life. (Thank you, Universe!) I am sorry to think that it came from being abused, but the fact remains that she is the best-behaved cat I ever met, and possibly the most intelligent. She has her own mind, but as long as her boundaries are respected, she is incredibly obedient. 

I have my boundaries too, and she respects them. I'm happy to be obliging to her in other ways, if I can. When I say no to something, she might ask, 'Do you really mean it?' once or twice, but then she accepts it with a good grace, and finds something else to do.

She is sufficiently self-contained to put up with a writer who spends large chunks of time at a computer. Unlike most cats, she has never attempted to come anywhere near the computer, let alone get between me and it. If I won't give her my attention, she doesn't keep demanding it. Perhaps she knows she'll get some later; but no other cat I've ever had has shown that degree of patience.

Despite attention to writing and other things, my life revolves around her. It has to; she is my responsibility. And, though I have lots of people and activities in my life, at home it's mostly just me and her. What I realised recently is that, even more so, her life revolves around me. I'm actually all she's got, the only one. It's a good thing she seems to have decided I'll do.

I should add that, like all cats, she's magic. 

Occasionally she disappears. She's a quiet wee thing, but eventually I notice she's not around. 'Where are you?' I ask out loud. No response. I check the spare room. I check every other room. I look under the beds, the tables, behind the couch, inside cupboards, calling her name. Nothing. It's as if she's dematerialised. I start to worry that she might have gone outside, but I know I haven't opened any doors she could slip through. Anyway, she's always hesitant to cross those thresholds.

Just when I'm at a complete loss, I turn around and there she is in the middle of the floor, calm and self-possessed, looking at me enquiringly. I never see where she materialises from; she just suddenly, silently, reappears.

A Year with Selene

Yes, she came to live with me on January 19th 2016.

For the most part it’s been a happy year, gradually building trust  and affection between us, establishing our little domestic routines and learning each other’s behaviours and boundaries. 

She likes to hang with me, to be close to wherever I am; but she also regards the spare room as hers, and sometimes likes to retreat to her own space for a snooze. She is thrilled when I sometimes have occasion to go into 'her' room. She welcomes me with a big fuss, as if I'm paying her a visit. 

In the evening, if I watch TV, she will soon be relaxing on  the couch beside me. She gets VERY relaxed.

I have some long, dangly things I use for playing with her; the game is that she jumps up and tries to catch them. Once caught, she is not so much interested; she lets them go so I’ll start all over again. When she sees me getting ready to retire for the night, she insists on having playtime first.

When I do go to bed, she comes straight onto the bed with me and settles down. But at some point, after I’m asleep, she goes off to her own space again.

As I may have mentioned before, she is mostly non-vocal. But there was the day I came home after a very busy morning and decided to have a little nap, which I rarely do in the daytime. She came up onto the bed next to me as usual, and then she began to purr. It was very faint but it went on for about two minutes. For this cat, that was A LOT! I was thrilled to pieces.

The long danglies we play with usually live in a drawer but one day I left them on the table. She knows she is not allowed on the table, and they stayed there untouched while I was out that day. But after I came home, I walked past the table and she reached up to where the end of one was hanging a little over the edge and gave it a tug with her paw, looking at me meaningfully. ‘Initiating play,’ said my social worker friend approvingly, when I told her later. (Yes, she got her game.)

We have had nice times out in the back yard together, me sitting in an outdoor chair meditating, reading or writing; her reclining nearby or inspecting the garden. It’s a small enclosed back yard. She can’t get out under the fence and shows no inclination to climb over it – much too afraid of what might be on the other side. She knows there are dogs and men in the neighbourhood.

She still hides when visitors come, but when they are women she’ll eventually come and check them out. She was OK with a gay male friend, too. It’s masculinity that scares her most.

She has got to the point, I believe, of loving and trusting me as much as she could any human being. Although it's unlikely she’ll ever be a cuddly cat, she has even let me pick her up now and then. And I do get to stroke her when she’s lying beside me on the couch or the bed. 

Everything progressing so nicely – and bang! Trouble. In this heatwave summer we’ve been having, she doesn't want to go outside in the middle of the day (neither do I). But she asks to go out briefly in the morning before it heats up, and again late afternoon / early evening, when it cools down again. Mostly I haven’t accompanied her, and she hasn't stayed out long. But long enough.

I started noticing odd little white spots on her fur, which appeared immediately after her being outside. Also the hair over her eyebrows has thinned noticeably, and under one paw. Her beautiful white eyebrow whiskers fell out a while back. (‘They do moult,’ said one of the vet nurses; but so far they haven’t grown back. I’m glad to say her whiskers proper are still there.)

I made a vet appointment, and for a few days beforehand accustomed her to having her special fishy treat in her carry cage – that is, the food in the cage and her poking her head inside to get it. But on the morning of the appointment, when I tried to push the rest of her in, she was quick to wriggle out of my hands. I waited a while, and then tried to pick her up. Instead of letting me, she twisted and bit my thumb before running off to hide. It wasn’t a hard bite; she really doesn't wish to attack me too fiercely nowadays. There was no bleeding, but the skin was broken in two places.

I went to the vet without her, but with photos. The vet thought it was probably an allergy to mosquito bites, and agreed to do a home visit when she could. That happened yesterday, and she confirmed the diagnosis. Selene hid at first but then came to say hello, and the vet was able to pick her up and pet her. But when she went to give her an injection, Selene bit her too. The vet was wearing cat-proof gloves, so no harm done. But no injection either; Selene was off her lap and away very smartly. 

The vet had come prepared, and gave me some tablets to crush in her food. That works. I am also supposed to slather calendula cream on her areas of fur loss. Well I can get it on the spots behind her ears, but she won't tolerate it anywhere else, and by now is afraid to come near me in case I try and put it on. No more bites, but if I were to try and force the issue, I’m sure there would be. So the next thing is to get a sedative from the vet tomorrow and see if that enables me to get her in her cage and take her there the next day. 

The worst thing is her poor little belly. It was always a bit furless around the nipples, indicating she’d had a litter. I hadn't noticed that the pink area had gradually spread. When the vet remarked on it, I said, ‘It’s always been like that.’ Then today I saw her washing it, and to my horror realised the bald area is already spreading down the insides of her back legs – since yesterday!

She seems happy enough, apart from distrusting my medicinal intentions, and not in any discomfort. But I am distraught. I realise that I can’t manage her in a crisis, and that the trust I’d established over a whole year is fragile. She will be 9 in April; she is not likely to change at this stage. For a while I was comparing how easy it was to manage our other two cats when Andrew was here to help. But really I doubt if even two people would be able to manage Selene.

The rest of the time she’s a sweetie, extraordinarily well-behaved and keen to please. But when she’s afraid, there’s no reassuring her.

I have been feeling guilty too. I had originally intended she should be an indoor cat, which was what she herself obviously wanted. But a friend heavied me about it being cruel to keep her inside, and around that time Selene started looking a little curious about the back yard, though perfectly content to survey the front yard and street from safely behind the flywire. So I made sure the back yard was safe for her, and encouraged her to try it. I have been doing some beating myself up that I didn't stick to the original decision and keep her inside, safe from the wretched mozzies. However, she has enjoyed the back yard, and as the vet said, 'It’s a summer problem.’  

The vet also said, ‘Don’t let her out at dawn or dusk.’ Well, in this weather, that’s exactly when she was going out! So now she’s not going out at all, and we are mooching around the house looking warily at each other, wishing for the rapport we had so carefully established before, but with very different ideas of what needs to be done about it.

PS I went to the vet to pick up tablets she prescribed during Saturday's home visit and also a pheromone diffuser to set up near where Selene sleeps (OK, near where she most often sleeps). I was advised to give her the tablets for two weeks before worrying about trying to sedate her and take her in, as they should clear up the trouble, even that bald belly! – Yrs considerably relieved.

Resident Reptile Becomes Rescued Reptile

Migrated from LiveJournal / Dreamwidth

Dear lizard lovers and dragon fanciers – resident reptile is no longer resident. I was having a late shower this morning, while Selene was out in the back yard. Suddenly the little water dragon, which had been so quiet for a few days that I thought it must have been hibernating, came running into the bathroom. (Perhaps it was drawn by the sound of the water; perhaps it could also tell that the cat was not inside at the time?) It ran right up to the edge of the shower, which is open and unscreened, then froze when it saw me. I'm not sure which of us was more startled. So, giving it as wide a berth as possible, I got out and dried myself, wondering what to do. It remained frozen – attempting to be invisible, I guess.

I remembered that a wildlife carer had suggested throwing a towel over it, so I did. Then I didn't like my chances of picking it up in the towel without (a) damaging it (b) it getting away. So I shut the bathroom door on it and rang the wildlife carers.

They couldn't get anyone here until late afternoon, but finally a nice, calm, efficient woman turned up and the little critter has now been collected and taken away. She thought he was probably hatched only recently. She also thought he would probably survive his ordeal. And yes, I was right: he was indeed a water dragon. Wonderful creatures, but I prefer them outside.

Selene Update: Milestones

The beautiful Selene has now been with me a little under four and a half months. She is very happy now that I have made the back yard secure for her, and enjoys spending time there every day. She quite often asks me to go out there with her, and I must admit it is a pleasant place to be. (She would like to go out there at night too, but that is definitely not going to happen.)

She also enjoys the winter sun in the spare room. I put her special rug that came with her on one of the beds, and she gets very cosy. She has established her own routines by now, and likes to sit with me when I'm at the computer. If I'm using the laptop, she'll sit on the chair in front of the desktop, and vice versa. (They're on side-by-side desks, with a printer in between.) She basically likes to hang with me a lot, but when I watch telly at night she usually goes and curls up in the spare room.

Not sharing a bed works fine; I think we both sleep better. But during the day there are times when she reminds me she still needs pats and scratches. I am happy to oblige! I suspect she'll never entirely trust a human, but she has come a long way in trusting me. A few days ago I was able to brush her fur with a brush, which she would once have shied away from. This morning I got brave enough to pick her up for a cuddle in my arms – which I have been longing to do – and she didn't resist but seemed to enjoy it. Well, she was acquiescent anyway, and I made it fairly brief.

As I have recounted before, she is non-vocal and communicates by body language and telepathy. She is highly telepathic! And I am improving. A couple of days ago I said to her out loud, 'I wish you would talk to me with your voice. It would be so much easier for me to understand what you want.' A little later, she asked for some dinner with a loud and clear miaow!!! The rule is that she has dry food available all the time, and other food is not given on demand but when I decide. However, I certainly rewarded that little effort! So far it hasn't happened again, so I might have to repeat the request – but it seems she aims to please.

Asking for Helpful Advice on facebook

Migrated from LiveJournal / Dreamwidth


It seems to work for satyapriya when she does it, but in my case not so. I am still reeling from the last lot I received, and would reproduce for you my cries of amazement except those that come to mind are in language unprintable publicly, even for me (and you).

As some of you know already, a young eastern water dragon (lizard) has got into the house and is mostly hiding very quietly behind the furniture; I don't know exactly where. I've seen it twice, but unlike geckoes it is much too quick to be swept or herded outside, and also too quick for Selene-cat to catch. (She doesn't seem to be a ferocious hunter; treats it like her toys when they roll under the furniture: out of sight, out of mind.)

I'm afraid it will either starve to death in this insect-less house, or that Selene will at some stage manage to kill it. I'd like to save it, but it is not at all cooperative about being saved. For one thing, I don't even know where the heck it is when it's not visible, and that's most of the time. It is very good at hiding. I peer behind furniture with a torch, and see nothing. It was a pure fluke that I ever saw it at all. I have also done some shifting of heavy furniture, with front door wide open and Selene shut out the back, and really thought it had gone – but no, there it was in the middle of the kitchen after all ... briefly, before disappearing swiftly back under the couch or the TV or wherever.

So I asked on facebook if anyone knew what I could do. Someone opined I might keep it in an aquarium. How would I get it in there, I wonder? Someone else suggested I could herd it with box lids. Well, it's not all that small, and it reacted fairly aggressively to my long-handled brush and pan. (I was glad theye WERE long-handled.)

The Selene Saga Continues

She has been here four months already!

Gradually she has claimed the space.

It is only very recently that she ventured into the bathroom (which, after a cursory inspection, she found boring) and the spare room, where she discovered comfortable beds that get the afternoon sun. The spare room is now definitely part of her domain.

It still wrings my heart a little, to see her where I used to see her beloved predecessors. But after all, they don't need those places any more, and it's good that she can enjoy them now.

Some weeks past she became daring enough to get on my bed, sometimes on her own during the daytime:

more especially at night – like Freya before her, arriving instantaneously upon my retirement. She also took to joining me for any afternoon naps.

It didn't take too long before she was snuggling right up, pressed against my torso or legs for the whole night.

Then we had the latest setback.

There have been a couple of occasions, since the first frenzied attack, that she has scratched me – but only with one brief touch, never again drawing blood. I eventually understood that, as she didn't learn when young to communicate with humans by miaowing and purring, she uses body language such as a warning paw extended, and if that message isn't got, a small tap with extended claw.

Which is what happened when I rolled over in my sleep one night, and evidently flung out an arm, and it was one of the rare occasions when she was sleeping at the top of the bed. I was woken by a scratch on my hand, and came to with a yell of pain and surprise, at which she jumped off the bed and ran out of the room. When I came fully awake, I realised she hadn't actually hurt me; but things were rather cool and stand-offish between us the rest of the day.

That night, when I settled for a read before turning the light out, she came confidently up the bed to me as usual, for a pat and some stroking and a scratch behind the ears, a pleasant routine we had got into before she found her spot for the night.

Only this time, as I reached out to pat her, she suddenly sat back on her haunches and started shadow-boxing with her front paws, not in a playful way but defensive and threatening. I roared in surprise and outrage (though she hadn't touched me) and again she ran from the room.

'Well, that's it,' I thought. 'I can't have her on the bed tonight. I can't trust her not to over-react to my movements.' So I shut the bedroom door. (My former cats would have scratched at it furiously, demanding admittance as their right, but not this one.)

I woke up next morning without all the aches and pains I'd been experiencing on waking for the past couple of weeks. Well, well, well! So no more cat on bed. I now shut my door every night. The first time, she looked next day as if she thought she was in disgrace. I spoke to her kindly to try and reassure her; she seemed to understand, We are working out between us new times for strokings, scratchings and rubbings up. We both know we do need touch, for proper bonding.

And I talk to her. She does her best to talk to me with her expressive eyes.

Oops! And Now, After All, We Are Two

There she is, the new love of my life – the cat I said I wasn't going to get. Her name is Selene, after the Greek moon goddess. You can read all about the way it came about, and the unique challenges she poses, over at my Cronewyze blog. (Posted there because there are some mystical aspects to her arrival in my life.)

So what's my excuse for changing my mind? Quite a few! 

Perfect freedom and self-indulgence pall after a while. And she needed a home. And a dear friend would have been very upset if I hadn't been able to take her. 

What about the cost? (Remember I thought the lack of feline expenses would help stretch the pension?)

Well, she's only one cat, not two as I had in the past. She is neither a kitten nor elderly – just seven weeks short of her eighth birthday – so hopefully won't need specialised food nor expensive veterinary treatments. 

Also, she seems to be an indoor cat. So far, anyway, she has shown no inclination whatsoever to go outside, though at her last home she did occasionally. The vets tell me that as she has lived to this age without getting sick, if she is to be an indoor cat she will not need vaccinating. After a couple of treatments to be on the safe side, she won't need worming or de-fleaing any more, either. 

Until / unless she gives me further notice, I am very happy for her to be an indoor cat. No fights with the bully-boy cat down the road. No bird carcases proudly dragged in for display on the kitchen floor. Little chance of getting a tick. No chance of getting hit by a car.  No danger of snake bite. OK, so she won't be able to keep the mice down, but that's all right as long as they stay outside. And if they do get inside, I guess she will deal with them after all.

She is to live on raw food to keep her teeth and kidneys healthy, and I have just discovered I can get the kind the vet recommended very cheaply from the local butcher. The biggest expense will be kitty litter, and after a bit of experimenting I have now found one which lasts 3 weeks, is odour controlled and relatively dust free. It's more expensive than some, but if it really lasts that long will work out the same.

I also had a chat to my doctor about dropping my podiatry treatments. Yes, I was getting a Medicare refund but there was still some initial outlay each time, and a portion un-refunded. Some time back, the doctor had reasons to want my feet scrutinised regularly, but we've now ascertained what is going on with them and what to do about it. Things are pretty well under control, and I am quite capable of cutting my own toenails and filing my own corns. So there's a saving to offset the cost of kitty litter! 

I did say I would be worried about being able to care for a new cat properly as I aged. This one, at nearly eight, is already mature. If she lives another 10 years or so, I'm still planning to be around long enough to take good care of her. And what a good incentive to stay healthy!