Can you believe Chris is fifteen? Sometimes, like after waking up to find puke and poop all over the house, I think he won’t make it to his sixteenth birthday. Other times, like as I write this, I see he has climbed up to his perch with no problem. That gives me hope.
He can also still be bad, although in more subtle ways, like turning over his food bowls.
I’m not going to dwell on how much time he has left, instead, I will enjoy each day he is with us. I will also remember some of his antics when he was young.