The day after I got back from the Romance Writers of America Conference in New York City, my precious Albert turned twenty–that’s well over a hundred in cat years. My heart lifted when I saw him tottering down the hall to greet me on his increasingly shaky legs.
People ask me how we got him to this venerable age. The vet says a strong constitution and lots of loving care. I add another reason: he has always been very vocal in letting us know his needs (see pic of him in alarm clock mode). In short: non-stop meowing until he demands are met! We sometimes say that if he could talk and people asked him his name he would reply: “My name is Shut-up Albert.”
I am grateful to have had this special animal with me for this long and continue to cherish every moment–yes, even when he’s yowling!