17 year old cat.

I’m writing about my cat, that in itself sounds as mad as one of those loving cat owners who talk to their cats, buy them a Christmas present and no doubt feed some wafer thin ham to their beloved moggy on the feline’s birthday.

Yes, this is me.
I have enjoyed the company of a cat from the age 9, the first cat in my life was White and of course he was called ‘Snowy’ Then came Thunder, with Storm the rabbit making an appearance with high kicks and a lunge for escape.
The rabbit was a right dullard, just froze when you picked it up and made everything honk.
Cats, of course, do often make many things honk but for some unknown reason, we forgive.
So a blog tribute to my 17-year old cat, who is the nerviest cat you will never meet. for that reason alone, I shall refer to the ‘shy cat’ as 17!
He has been through a heck of a lot, a Labour landslide, Diana in that car crash and of course George Osbourne and the austerity tax on ‘Dreamies.’
’17’ has today become our longest living cat, A feat that does bring out the worst in we cat owners, talk of converting cat years into human years, getting it wrong and making out ’17’ is older than Bruce Forsyth.
He (bits were removed very early on) has to be the most annoying, messy and frankly thick cat we have ever had, no understanding of good toilet behaviour with the litter box, just drop and dash.
His breath has been a paint stripper for years, his legs are weak and he is missing a tooth or 2.

Above all this benighted talk, he is and has been the most faithful of friends, from disaster to merrier times.
He has been featured on radio when I have been short on material, ’17’ was sure to have done something that would gain a giggle from a listener to the breakfast show.
When I was on air at a radio station in Suffolk, I told the story of the time I bought a new wok, it was a great wok that held promise of great foods.
One day returning from work, we discovered the wok on the hob with what looked like olive oil, thin olive oil.
It was sadly not extra virgin but the after affect of ’17’ somehow straddling a wok and relieving himself in it.
To this day, I have no idea how he did it or why but the wok remained untouched by human hand again.

Through the bottles of bleach, air freshener and thoughts of murder, he has made us laugh and given us total love and devotion.
We know he has little time left and the day that I have to take him to the vet will be a sorry day filled with tears but we know he has also been spoilt and loved in return. life without a cat would be life with fewer laughs, a rather more dull life.
It has been an honour to share time with ’17’ and as he screams for his Birthday wafer-thin ham. I say Happy Birthday ’17’ and thank you.