I live with a really old cat.  Her name is Jenny, and she turned 21 in March of this year.  I started my life as a cat-hater.  My family had a cat when I was young, and we shared a mutual animosity.

I’ve known Jenny her entire life.  There was a time when I travelled frequently and having another dog just wasn’t in the cards.  And, since my brother was adopted by a cat who turned out to be pregnant, he ended up with 7 cats instead of one. 

So, strictly to help him out, I adopted two of the family.  The deal I made with my brother was that I could take the kittens on a trial basis.  But, as it turned out, I became one of those rare breeds – a dog and cat person.  But, I digress. 

If you’re an animal lover, you probably consider your pets like members of the family.  When you live with a really old cat, you discover how human cats really are.  A really old cat acts very much like the really old people I’ve known.

Jenny is very set in her ways.  And, at this point in her life, she doesn’t feel the need to beat around the bush to get what she wants.  Mornings are spent sleeping on the packing box with the comforter on top that puts her at just the right height to look out the window behind my desk. 

At mid-day, her schedule calls for eating a few cat treats.  If my schedule is not running on time, she will bat at my legs complaining loudly until I make the trip to the kitchen for the required treats.  Jenny is deaf as a post, and her conversation has increased in volume accordingly. 

Her most important job, however, is making sure I get enough sleep.  If I stay up too late, she’s always quick to remind me that it’s past time to go to bed.  Bed time for Jenny consists of some cuddling after which she curls up at the foot of the bed.  Once I am asleep, she repairs to the office to sleep on the packing box.

If, however, I get up during the night, all her hard work has gone to waste.  Complaining loudly, she stalks back into the bedroom, and we repeat the earlier process of cuddling, curling up, then back to the packing box.  I know because I can fool her into thinking I’m asleep to see what happens.

Living with a really old cat is similar to living with your mother.  But, I’m not really complaining.  She can yell at me all she wants.  I know she’s only doing it for my own good.