You know your cat is getting old when …
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It goes from 22 hours of happy-go-lucky, kittenish sleep per day to 21 hours of restless, fitful sleep per day.
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All he wants to do is watch “Catlock.”
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Tries to cash in her eighth life insurance policy for a kilo of catnip.
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Whines non-stop about the “bankrupt moral values of kittens these days.”
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Trades in his Whiskas for prune-flavored Whippasnappas.
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“You call this catnip? Hell, I remember back in the ’90s, I once scored some Meowie Wowie that would knock your claws off…”
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Instead of shredding your drapes, she sub-contracts the job.
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Writes “Put me to sleep” in its litter box with pee.
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When you strap a piece of buttered toast to her back and drop her, she lands on her hip.
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Stops leaving dead mice on doormats; starts leaving bingo cards.
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Spends all day on the front porch, yelling at the squirrels to get the hell out of his yard.
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Occasionally forgets to ignore you.
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Instead of swaggering up to you and dropping dead mice at your feet, he drives up in his Rascal and pulls them out of the saddlebag.
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Has to drink a whole bottle of Rogaine just to cough up one hairball.
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While his younger friends are out chasing mice, he claims a moral victory in catching the elusive dust bunny.