I've had Harley since Aug 1998. We figure he was probably born sometime in May of that same year, so he'd be a little over 11 now. He's used up 2 of his 9 lives, that I know of.
I named him Harley because his purr is so loud, he sounds like a motorcycle, but now he's a Harley Fat Boy. Few people get to hear him purr though, because he hides from you unless you're over at my house a lot and he gets used to you, then he won't leave you alone.
The orange cat in these pics are Cartman. I'll have to post about Cartman some day. Don't worry, he's alive and well. He's living with his dad since the divorce. Although they look pretty chummy in these photos, I don't think Harley misses Cartman much. Cartman wasn't very nice to him, really.
Like I said, I know Harley has used 2 of his 9 lives and during those times he's racked up more in medical bills than I have in my lifetime. I tell people he's the most expensive free cat ever. First, he had a retained testicle that they found in his CHEST cavity, requiring major surgery and an after-care incision that ran almost the entire length of his belly. The second time was when we moved to Arizona his liver shut down. No one knows why. It did, he almost died. I held him in my arms and said goodbye before we put him down. Then the vet said to wait the weekend. The weekend turned into a week. Weeks turned into a month. Eventually his liver started working again. I think it was from the liquid bile I had to force-feed him. There's nothing that tastes worse than liquid bile. It said chicken flavored, but honestly, can you really ever flavor bile? Eck.
No, he didn't die and turn into a vampire kitty. He's alive, safe and sound and healthy again. He purrs me to sleep everynight. He trips me by wrapping himself around my legs when he's run out of food. He sits by the utility room door all night hoping to catch that mouse that we can't seem to keep out of there.
I love Harley. He's my main man.