The oldest cat in the world

Irish Stones

Today I've come across this article.
Sasha, the oldest cat in the world
Isn't that amazing? I knew that tortieshell cats have an increased strength, but 31 is truly amazing?
How old is/was your older pet?
My sweet cat Lola, a tortie, was 16 years 10 months 15 days old when she went to the Rainbow Bridge.

ShaShaBear

Irish Stones wrote: »

Today I've come across this article.
Sasha, the oldest cat in the world
Isn't that amazing? I knew that tortieshell cats have an increased strength, but 31 is truly amazing?
How old is/was your older pet?
My sweet cat Lola, a tortie, was 16 years 10 months 15 days old when she went to the Rainbow Bridge.

On one hand, it's a wonderful dream to think what it might be like if our pets lived for 30+ years comfortably and in reasonable health.
On the other hand, I thought the soul-crushing depths of despair losing Shadow at 11 was bad. Assuming he lived for another 10 years, that would leave me about to turn 40, my husband 43 and my daughters 13 and 12. I genuinely don't think I could cope with losing a family member after such a long length of time!

Casher

My Mom had a cat that arrived in to them as a kitten when my brother was around 1, before I was born anyway and died when they were dropping me up to university for my second year. She was around 21/22 years old. She lived a long happy life and outlived most of her feline rivals for attention.

mymo

Growing up my granny had two sisters that lived to 22 and 24, photos of my mums 7th birthday, cards and all proved their age. Most of our other cats were 16-20years, I currently have a 16 year old ginger meowing at me for dinner. I have had 2 cats in my life that died younger that 16, Toby is still killing rats, we have him 9 years, he was a few years old when we got him, vet said 5-7years old he guessed.

Samaris

The cat we had when I was growing up (a neutered male grey tabby) lived to about 20-21. He wasn't in the best of health by the end, something had gone a bit screwy in his little furry mind and he had a tendency to around (and around and around and around) things if they weren't where he was expecting them to be - chairs for instance.

He would have actually gone to the vet the week he died as he was losing condition rapidly and was on the way out, but he upped and betook himself one morning and just never came back. Presumably he went to find a quiet place to die, although I fondly imagined he'd found a deckchair in a garden somewhere and was still walking around it, poor auld moggy. I was quite fond of him, but as he apparently remembered me as a small unpredictable toddler, he didn't love me that much in return!