I've had a few cats in my time. Ramona lived to be 15. I got her when I was 20, she died when I was 35. Her sister, Other Cat, lived to be 20. I was 40 when she died. Kitty was a year old when I got her and now I've had her for 13 years so she's 14, but she's still holding her own. Cat-like behavior is the name of the game with Kitty. Racing around, running, jumping, high-tailing it up and down the stairs. She's a very busy girl. If she lives 6 more years, I'll be 60. (Yeah, I'm 54. Deal with it. I have.) At that rate, I'll only have one cat left in me before it's check out time in the Hotel 'O Diane. One more cat. This makes me face mortality in a way that only Crazy Cat Ladies could understand.
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