Growing up, my childhood cat Honeybun was a big part of my life. She was so affectionate and always greeted me when I came home. Her loss affected me massively when she passed away in February last year. I loved her throughout her whole life, but she was particularly sweet in her later years. I thought to myself: when I have my own place, I’ll adopt old cats to make sure they don’t stay in cages at the end of their life.
Last summer, I finally got my own flat in London and was ready to adopt. I came across a cat named Flossie through Cats Protection, a charity dedicated to rescuing and rehoming stray, unwanted or homeless animals. The website said she was a 27-year-old tortoiseshell. At the time, I thought it was an error and that she must be 17. Cats Protection told me she was still available to adopt and that no, she was in fact 27, the same age as me. It is weird to think that Flossie and I were born in the same year.
