Happy Birthday, Scooter!

Yes, today Scooter is 19 years old. Today I'll spoil him even more rotten, maybe a can of salmon or tuna.

Most of the photos I have of him still need to be scanned into the computer. I've only got digital ones since 2006. That's when this picture of him and Monster snoozing together on some clean laundry was taken. See how lively he looks then? Well, he was only 16.


This next photo is from 2007. He still looks pretty good, but I think he's starting to show his age.


Honestly, I've taken very few pictures of him this past year or so. I know it's probably selfish of me, but I always want to remember him as the wonderful, loving, snuggly, good natured cat that he was. While I love him still and snuggle with him most nights (when he allows it), I'm not so sure I want to remember him as the shadow of his younger self. The poor little guy is so bony. He's arthritic and doesn't groom much anymore. He's not always cooperative when we try to groom him either. He bit Keith quite soundly the other night.

Keith and I both know that soon we'll have to take him to the final vet visit. His tumor is still growing. A couple of days lately he seemed like he wasn't feeling that great, but then I realized that he was finding places in the house that didn't have ceiling fans or where away from the A/C vents. I think he's be perfectly happy if I let the house get really warm, but the rest of us would melt.