No, not me. My cat.
He is at least 20 now. When we picked him out at the Humane Society, they thought he was at least a year old. Someone had found him as a stray and brought him in, so that was all we knew. We adopted him 19 years ago last summer, so 20 he is. Which is 96 in human years. NINETY SIX.
He is such an integral part of our family, Charlie doesn't know life without him.
He eats a lot, three to four cans of food a day. And he has no trouble letting you know when it isn't fresh enough for him.
Being 96, he mostly sleeps. As the temperatures drop we will put a heating pad under his cat bed, so he can have a little extra warmth for his old bones. (safely, of course....)
We give him 5 meds twice a day. Clearly a senior. He just had a check-up a couple of weeks ago, and his vet is always impressed by what great shape he is in "for his age".
Even when he wakes us up at 4 am, meowing loudly, we still love him, and can't imagine our little family without him.