I am Phoebe. I am a very old lady and I live with some humans in Terrigal by the sea. I think I’m in a place called Australia but I’m not so sure.
I’m 19, which is really old for a Himalayan cat and I am told it’s equivalent to more than 90 in human years. Here you can see how I now spend every day — curled up asleep on the sofa, my favourite sofa.
Like very old people we old cats like our routine. I am really set in my ways nowadays. I wake up at close to four-thirty and start bellowing to wake my human slaves.
They usually manage to resist until about five when the old male human turns up downstairs to give me my breakfast.
Then I go to the box. I have very regular bowel habits, you understand. Then I ask the male human slave to let me out onto the deck. Most days in winter it is way too cold to stay outside, so I wait until the slave is a decent distance from the door and I bellow to be let in. He always complies. So well trained.
After that it’s a quick visit to clean up any left-over scraps of breakfast before onto the sofa to start my long day’s nap. A girl has to get her beauty sleep, doesn’t she?
Time was when I used to spring up to the kitchen bench but nowadays, sometimes, even a climb onto the sofa is a big effort. I wish I were not so old, but that’s life.
Of course life has not been quite the same since I lost my little friend Zoe back in May. I didn’t think I would miss her so terribly, but I do. She was no trouble and she was a lovely friend.
I sleep all day with occasional visits to the water bowl and, maybe, a trip to the box for a pee. As a very important old cat I do insist on the highest standards of cleanliness. If my box needs the litter changing I draw the humans’ attention to their sloppy standards by peeing on the floor next to the box.
Fortunately the human training has been a very successful program and I have not had to resort to this signal of disapproval for some time.
I wake up from my beauty sleep at around five and ask for dinner by standing to attention next to the food bowl. It always works a treat.
Then it’s a short excursion to the deck again, keeping the humans on their toes by going out of one door and demanding to come in through another.
Usually it’s then more dinner followed by the evening TV curled up next to the male human on the sofa. I really like to be tickled under the chin and stroked slowly. If he gets bored doing it or is uncooperative by trying to read, I do find that a sharp tap with a paw soon brings him into line.
He thinks I fall asleep during the evening but, really, I am waiting for him to go to bed. I wait until he’s been in bed for about ten minutes and then I really start bellowing and demanding attention.
The humans always ignore me so sometimes, when I feel up to it, I patter upstairs in the dark — which I hate nowadays — and climb onto their bed to demand attention. After about five minutes I call it a day and go downstairs to sleep by myself.
Nowadays, though, I do get lonely in the night and often wake up and shout for a human. It sometimes works.
The humans say that I am doing really well but I still wish that I were not so old.