Indigo was a stray and showed up in my yard in June of 1992 so I have had him living with me for over 13 years. The vet, at the time, estimated that he was about a year and half minimum, so I assume he was about fifteen years old. Perhaps older? When he came into my life, he was mostly dead. He had lost a lot of weight, his hair was all matted up, and he was limping as one of his legs dangled from his body while he moved. We weren’t sure he was going to survive. He did survive. And was an excellent cat for all of these years. He died yesterday in my home with some assistance of the vet, the tech and myself. This was after a rapid decline since the night before Thanksgiving, just last week. I miss him dearly. I am so grateful though to have had his company and support for so long. He was a cat with a lot of dignity. He was incredibly helpful. He was sweet all the time. He was always there for me whenever I was sad about anything.

And he ALWAYS used the litter boxes. Seriously. Now that is a good cat.