Update, March 2008: The Aged Cat died Tues., March 2, 2008. He was 19 years old.
Requiescat in pace.
—————————————————– The Aged Cat is the alias of Toulouse, a very old fella living in suburban Maryland. His mother was a persian cat. His father’s identity remains a mystery. At the start of this blog, the Aged is 19 years old. We are told that that is approximately equal to 92 human years.
The Aged adores the smell of fresh ink, catnip, and lavender. Despite his advanced years he retains a keen sense of smell and can detect a plate of cheese and crackers from 3 rooms away. As a youngster, he delighted in wrestling, tag, hunting and a feline form of the game of rugby involving one other cat and a toy mouse. (He would have me add here, that the game is better with a live mouse, but that they can be hard to come by.) He has often been found perching in unlikely, picturesque spots, and performing midnight arias in the bathroom. He disapproves of knitting needles, crochet hooks, book stacking, and rock music.
When it comes to the company he keeps, The Aged Cat is particular, but he is very kind and generous to those he befriends. Our Tortie, a foundling nearly 2 years his senior, never quite learned the proper way to bathe, and received much assistance from him over the course of 18 years.
The Aged Cat seems fond of me, –(yes, he says, I can leave that in) — the human with whom he lives, though I do puzzle him at times, and even exasperate him, now and then. When I suggested this blog, he rolled his eyes as if to say, “The last thing I need is you spending more time with that thing.”
The Aged suffers from a host of chronic ailments, common to geriatric felines, but to his credit, he prefers not to dwell on them.
“Anyway, that’s my job,” I tell him.
“Yes, it is,” he agrees.
“So what’s your job?” I ask him.
“19 years and you have to ask?”
The Aged Cat pretends to be curmudgeonly, but that’s just the grumbling of some very old bones. After 19 years, even the sweetest of cats is likely to grumble on occasion.
“So what are you going to put in there?” his curiosity, getting the better of him.
“I don’t know yet. What do you think I should write?”
“Just put ‘Not dead yet’. That about sums it up.”
I laugh. “And the next day.”
” ‘Not dead.’ ”
“I see. And after that.”
” ‘Still not dead.’ ”
I guess that’s as good a place to begin as any. So without further ado, I present to you, Toulouse, The Aged Cat, who is “still not dead yet.”
The Aged Cat 
hello there. hope you’ve been well. it’s been forever since i’ve seen you about blogdom.
cody bear, spree, pickles and i send you cheery thoughts.
you haven’t posted in a while so cody bear thought we’d pop in to see how you were doing!
we hope you’re well and know you don’t get better right away. anyway…you’re one of our favorite poets and we just want to say “hi.” and wag our tails at you.
I added you to my blogroll not too long ago and usually keeps coming back to see updates. I havent done it for the recent weeks due to work and now I found that The Aged Cat has gone. I am truly sorry. As a cat lover myself Ive blogged on passed on babies and did a lot of the things you did, sometimes just trying to forget the pain but knowing you dont want to forget.
The Aged is one handsome dude, and looks to be in great shape for one so aged!
Dear Mercedes, the Aged thanks you and says keeping his assistant busy is his way of keeping her out of trouble. (I’m don’t what he’s implying by that.) He hopes you’ll sniff around to your heart’s content. He says finds the dog bloggers surprisingly well-mannered and enjoyable company. (Had I tried to tell him he wouldn’t have believed me. I’ll make sure he comes and sees you too, Mercedes. Well, . . . I’ll try.)
The Aged Cat~I love your story and your sense of humor! Your assistant has a lot of work on her hands, huh? Hope you don’t mind if I sniff around from time to time!
WOOF!
I think I would enjoy hanging out with Toulouse. Maybe since he’s aged, he wouldn’t take a swipe at me all the time, like the two 9-year-old Maine Coons that I live with. I want to be friends, but they just want to slice me up!
Golly! Thanks Tristan! I’ll tell the Aged you approve. He’s not above liking a bit of flattery from time to time.
(but do keep up with the neuro, too! we need you to know it!) 😀
I really love – really – that your cat has a blog. This is one I can’t stop reading during my classes – who needs to know neuro anyway?
Keep it up!
Just found you and love your blog.
Thanks for the good wishes for me and The Aged. He’s so much tougher than I’d have given him credit for a year or two ago.
Oh yeah, kittens! You’ve got yer hands full! They’ll taste just about anything. (but they’re sooo sweet!) Once knew a kitten who kept chewing through chords — as in electrical, telephone, . . . I used to come home cringing at the end of the day, half expecting to find a barbecued kitty! Didn’t — thank goodness!
Haha. I just found your site and I have to say that The Aged sounds like a tough old teddy bear. My experience is mostly with kittens, as I am living with three, and it can be just as exasperating and endearing, especially when one who loves plastic decides to swallow a sticker unbeknownst to me–who at that point is in a panic. Got to love them. Best of luck and I’ll keep reading.