I Know I Was Never Any Good at Math, But ....

OK. Wrap your brains around this one.

As of Saturday, five of my seven cats are the same age as I am.

That's right. Henry, Sammy, Nettie, CJ and Koko who were born on July 24, 2002, turned eight (my how time flies) which makes them the equivalent of 49 human years old. *

Yeah, I know that most people subscribe to that one-year-in-dog-years-equals-seven-human-years stuff. But it doesn't work that way for cats. I'm not even sure it's really true for dogs. It's a complicated and intricate system that's equates to something like 15 human years to a cat's first year, seven or eight years the second year and four years for every year after that.

The part that truly amazes me is how gracefully my cats wear their advancing years. Now that we are the "same" age, I have to admit, they are aging way better than I am.

For example, they can still easily jump six feet and balance themselves on the narrow edge of a doortop as if it were nothing. I can't do that -- I couldn't even when I was eight!

And they are all still so good-looking. For the most part they have kept their lithe figures (well, not all of them. Yes, Ernie, I am talking about you, my love.) with thick, rich glossy coats without a speck of grey. Wish I could say the same.

How do they do it? Maybe it's the 18+ hours of sleep they get every day. On a good night I get about six and a half hours. If I'm lucky, that is.

Maybe, it's because they live totally sans souci. Why should they have worries? They have me to look after their every need and tell them how special, wonderful and beautiful they are 24/7. Hmmmmm. Could be something to that.

Any takers?

* Actually depending on which calculator you use the range for a eight-year-old cat is anywhere from 48-50 years. But then it's pretty common for all of us who are nearing the big 5-0 to fudge a year or so here and there isn't it?