A Lesson Learned From My Cat
My cat Sonny has been gone for about 5 years. I still miss him. He lived to the age of 15 which is a long life for a cat. I'm grateful for all the good times I had with him. We lived together in an apartment in Hollywood, CA.
He was a sweet loving cat to me, with a loud rumbling purr, but he was hell on other cats, even after I had him fixed. Every cat on our block feared him. If a cat walked down our driveway toward our garden apartment, where Sonny had his own flat stone in the small garden to sleep on, Sonny would open one eye and his one eyed glance was enough to cause the stranger cat to instantly turn and run like a lightening streak.
One lesson I learned from my cat was about being older. We had aged together. I was 68 and preparing to retire, and my cat was 13, approaching the end of his life (he lived to be 15). For a cat 13 is definitely old age, the approximate equivalent of a person in his 90s.
At that point, a new cat moved into our neighborhood, just over the back fence on the next block. This cat was an unfixed male, a yellow tabby cat about 3 years old which would be like a person 20 years old. And this yellow cat was very aggressive and territorial.
As was inevitable, the two cats took to fighting almost daily. I spent a lot of time taking my beat up cat to the vet. I was very glad I had cat insurance. I also spent time accepting apologies from my back fence new neighbor who felt bad about all the damage her cat was doing to my cat. I kept telling her that I knew my own aggressive cat was at least part of the problem. Her cat would climb the fence and jump into my cat's turf and my cat would defend his turf with all he had.
I began to worry about my cat. He was an old guy and I wondered how much of this he could take. The yellow cat was young and strong, but my cat was old and worn out from too many fights. Due to the insurance, I could handle the vet bills but could Sonny handle the fights with that young cat? I hadn't named my cat Sonny for no reason; he was muscular, aggressive and a black cat so I'd named him for Sonny Liston, one of the world's greatest and toughest pro fighters. But, tough or not, a younger cat was challenging him and regularly winning their fights, so I worried about my cat for the first time. I considered keeping him indoors but couldn't quite bring myself to do it. Our apartment was hot during the day and I had no air conditioning. And Sonny was used to his freedom, an important thing for cats. Sonny had lived as an outdoor cat all his life; should I take that away from him? I finally decided to let things be and hope for the best. When cats conflict, they usually find a way to settle their differences eventually. Either one cat becomes dominant or the two cats learn to share their turfs. So I decided to wait it out.
Nevertheless, each day at work I worried about coming home to find my Sonny in need of vet care. Several more times I had to take Sonny to the vet. Each time the owner of the yellow cat would apologize and offer me money; she was very glad to hear I had a good pet insurance policy in place to absorb costs.
One day I came home to see Sonny looking unusually happy, sitting on my porch grooming himself. I looked over the fence to see the yellow cat sleeping on his apartment doormat. This happened several days in a row. Finally, the yellow cat's owner explained things to me. Her cat was done beating up my cat. She explained it to me this way: "He's a tough fighter. But he's lazy. He knows he can beat up your cat, but your cat is stubborn and keeps on defending his turf no matter what. So my cat knows he can beat up your cat but he's discovered he will have to do it EVERY time he goes into that yard! And that's too much work for him. He'd rather take a nap."
I learned a lot from my cat. It was a triumph of old age and stubbornness over youth and laziness. Sonny maintained his turf peacefully from then on.
He was a sweet loving cat to me, with a loud rumbling purr, but he was hell on other cats, even after I had him fixed. Every cat on our block feared him. If a cat walked down our driveway toward our garden apartment, where Sonny had his own flat stone in the small garden to sleep on, Sonny would open one eye and his one eyed glance was enough to cause the stranger cat to instantly turn and run like a lightening streak.
One lesson I learned from my cat was about being older. We had aged together. I was 68 and preparing to retire, and my cat was 13, approaching the end of his life (he lived to be 15). For a cat 13 is definitely old age, the approximate equivalent of a person in his 90s.
At that point, a new cat moved into our neighborhood, just over the back fence on the next block. This cat was an unfixed male, a yellow tabby cat about 3 years old which would be like a person 20 years old. And this yellow cat was very aggressive and territorial.
As was inevitable, the two cats took to fighting almost daily. I spent a lot of time taking my beat up cat to the vet. I was very glad I had cat insurance. I also spent time accepting apologies from my back fence new neighbor who felt bad about all the damage her cat was doing to my cat. I kept telling her that I knew my own aggressive cat was at least part of the problem. Her cat would climb the fence and jump into my cat's turf and my cat would defend his turf with all he had.
I began to worry about my cat. He was an old guy and I wondered how much of this he could take. The yellow cat was young and strong, but my cat was old and worn out from too many fights. Due to the insurance, I could handle the vet bills but could Sonny handle the fights with that young cat? I hadn't named my cat Sonny for no reason; he was muscular, aggressive and a black cat so I'd named him for Sonny Liston, one of the world's greatest and toughest pro fighters. But, tough or not, a younger cat was challenging him and regularly winning their fights, so I worried about my cat for the first time. I considered keeping him indoors but couldn't quite bring myself to do it. Our apartment was hot during the day and I had no air conditioning. And Sonny was used to his freedom, an important thing for cats. Sonny had lived as an outdoor cat all his life; should I take that away from him? I finally decided to let things be and hope for the best. When cats conflict, they usually find a way to settle their differences eventually. Either one cat becomes dominant or the two cats learn to share their turfs. So I decided to wait it out.
Nevertheless, each day at work I worried about coming home to find my Sonny in need of vet care. Several more times I had to take Sonny to the vet. Each time the owner of the yellow cat would apologize and offer me money; she was very glad to hear I had a good pet insurance policy in place to absorb costs.
One day I came home to see Sonny looking unusually happy, sitting on my porch grooming himself. I looked over the fence to see the yellow cat sleeping on his apartment doormat. This happened several days in a row. Finally, the yellow cat's owner explained things to me. Her cat was done beating up my cat. She explained it to me this way: "He's a tough fighter. But he's lazy. He knows he can beat up your cat, but your cat is stubborn and keeps on defending his turf no matter what. So my cat knows he can beat up your cat but he's discovered he will have to do it EVERY time he goes into that yard! And that's too much work for him. He'd rather take a nap."
I learned a lot from my cat. It was a triumph of old age and stubbornness over youth and laziness. Sonny maintained his turf peacefully from then on.
70-79, F
