February 3, 2012 8:45 pm

Old friends

It’s not just human beings who are living longer – our pets are too
Pip, a terrier-whippet cross

Pip, terrier-whippet cross, age 24

How old is the world’s oldest dog? When Pusuke, the Japanese record-holder, died in December, aged 26, it made global headlines from Vanity Fair to the Hindustan Times. It also created a vacancy.

Tracking down Pusuke’s successor has proved tough. Animal ages are not always well documented. There was excitement about a Yorkshire terrier from Leeds called Bonnie, rumoured to be 28. But, in a sadly not uncommon event among the elderly of the pet world, she didn’t last long enough for her owners to get the paperwork in. Another applicant – Pip, a 24-year-old British crossbreed – was deemed short on documentation due to her rescue-home origins. Only now, after more than two months with no reigning champion, is Guinness World Records on the verge of declaring a new oldest dog: Lady, a fragile Jack Russell in Lincolnshire, is a well-documented 23.

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The age of our pets is a new obsession. Since 2001, almost 1,000 people have applied to Guinness, claiming the titles of oldest dog, cat or rabbit for their pets. Craig Glenday, the book’s editor, believes these records provide the already lucky animals with the chance to “live eternally”.

But while Guinness makes a bestseller out of the exceptions, longevity among our pets may be becoming more of a rule. “During the 20th century, human life expectancy increased 30 per cent, [due to] clean food, water, hygiene. The same thing has happened, no doubt, to pets,” says Professor Steven Austad, an expert in ageing at the University of Texas.

The evidence can be found queuing up in vets’ waiting rooms. “The feeling is that pet animals are living longer,” says Dan Brockman, a professor at the Royal Veterinary College. “We certainly see more old cats in particular, and old dogs. The three cornerstones are the genetic coding, better understanding of nutritional needs and the care [the animals] receive.”

The British spent around £2bn last year on pet food, just shy of the revenues of the 20 Premiership football clubs. Vets’ bills and other extras account for at least as much again. In the US, overall spending on pets hit $50bn for the first time in 2011, estimates the American Pet Products Association.

This change in how we treat pets began with the Victorians. Queen Victoria had her dogs depicted in portraits, and rushed back from her own coronation ceremony to give Dash, her beloved King Charles spaniel, a bath. Charles Dickens was so taken by his pet ravens that he wrote them into Barnaby Rudge. By the mid-19th century, Britain’s first veterinary schools, founded for racehorses, were treating pets. The world’s first dog biscuits went on sale in London in the 1860s.

But, in recent decades, attitudes have shifted further as owners try to keep their pets alive even longer. “There was an idea that you could put a dog to sleep and get a new model,” says Mike Davies, a vet at the Oakham Veterinary Hospital in Rutland. Today, ancient pets are probably vets’ most reliable customers.

“Gone are the days of James Herriot, when all you did was give a couple of injections,” says Gerard McLauchlan, a vet at Glasgow university. “We used to be decades behind [human medicine], whereas that’s no longer the case.” In some areas, such as the repair of tendons using stem cells, veterinary science is actually ahead.

The fate of our pets is tied to our own. As our lives became more comfortable, so did theirs. When we got fatter, so did they. And now, the stiff joints and stumbling memories of longer lifespans belong to both of us. The five pets featured here are all old-age pensioners. They may not qualify for Guinness World Records – or perhaps even still be with us by the time these pages come out. But they are the faces of the new geriatric generation.

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Pip, a terrier-whippet cross-breed

Pip, terrier-whippet cross, age 24

Pip

Terrier-whippet cross

Age 24

There are plenty of photos of Pip on the walls of the Essex Dog Training Centre, but these days none bears a true likeness. Aged 24, her face is whiter and her waist thinner. This is the frail elegance of old age. Or as Roy Dyer – the centre’s jovial founder – puts it: “She’s always been an ugly bugger, hasn’t she?”

When Dyer found Pip at a rescue home 23 years ago, he was keen to pass her on to someone else. But his daughter Tiffany intervened and she’s been with them ever since.

As befits any centenarian (Pip is 168 in apocryphal dog years), her hearing and sight are fading, and she can no longer perceive the hand signals used by dog trainers. (Studies have found that dogs’ failing mental powers can leave them, like ageing humans, feeling frustrated.)

Pip can occasionally be seen staring vacantly at their ceiling – “perhaps a little bit of dementia”, suggests Dyer, and Tiffany now has to click her fingers to gain her attention. But her essence is still intact, despite the fact that she is now twice a terrier’s average lifespan. “[When she dies], I will be absolutely heartbroken,” says Tiffany, cradling the dog. “She’s a special one. She was there for a lot of major things in my life. I couldn’t have done any more for her. It’s how I want to be treated in old age.”

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Rocky, a rhinoceros iguana

Rocky, rhinoceros iguana, age 22

Rocky

Rhinoceros iguana

Age 22

At 22, Rocky is the same age as some of the oldest pet iguanas on record. He has outlived not only his long-term mate but also his previous owner, a reptile enthusiast killed by one of his cobras. But age has yet to change his appearance – his Nixonian jowls and wrinkled, canvassy skin are common to all rhinoceros iguanas. “I vaguely remember taking him to the vet … once. But they’re bullet-proof,” says Colin Bourne, a driving instructor, who was given his first lizard as a child.

In the wild, iguanas are thought to be able to live into their forties. But efforts to turn them into pets initially foundered. The lizards were captured in the Caribbean, shipped over with minimal care, and then not provided with the correct light and (vegetarian) diet. Most died within a few years.

“I made a lot of mistakes. We all did,” says Bourne. He is determined not to repeat them. His garden contains perhaps the most sophisticated shed in south London: insulated walls, 10 spotlights, six UV strip lights and five heaters. The thermostat is set to 30C; last year’s household electricity bills totalled £1,700.

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Tyler, a tabby cat

Tyler, tabby cat, age 23

Tyler

Tabby cat

Age 23

Tyler shows his age when he drinks. His eyes can no longer see the surface of the water and so, before lowering his head towards the bowl, he extends a paw and pats down gently – testing the level.

The cat’s sense of smell is fading, too, so his owner, Stephen Fleet, makes sure his food is heated and the brands changed. “It’s the only way to keep him interested. It’s a different smell.” He crushes in tablets for Tyler’s overactive thyroid, a condition that once left the cat manic and thin. “The vet said there’s no reason he can’t keep going.”

As Fleet talks, Tyler lazily installs himself on the sofa. But for the fleck of grey on his lower lip, he could pass for a two-year-old (even if he is already nine years past the average cat life expectancy). He’s still capable of seeing off neighbouring rivals. “He behaves – you try to avoid anthropomorphising, but it’s the only thing I can say – like a pensioner defending his allotment,” says Fleet, who got Tyler from Battersea Dogs & Cats Home.

The two have lived together for 19 years. “He’s probably the friendliest cat I’ve ever come across. He’s never scratched in anger,” says Fleet. “He has seen me through three long-term relationships. If you like, he is my longest serious relationship.”

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Shelley, a dwarf-cross rabbit

Shelley, dwarf-cross rabbit, age 15

Shelley

Dwarf-cross rabbit

Age 15

The greatest misconception about rabbits is that they are cuddly. The most that can be said is that, in their old age, they put up less of a fight. “She’s always been a bit stroppy, a bit aloof. As she’s got older, she’ll sit for a stroke,” says Jo Brooks about Shelley, a grey rabbit she rescued 13 years ago.

Brooks found Shelley, already fully-grown and estimated to be around two, abandoned by the roadside. Most rabbits expire before reaching double figures, but many owners tire of dirty hutches long before that. Over 30,000 rabbits a year are handed into rescues, estimates Rabbit Rehome, a website that helps find new homes for them.

Shelley receives a bowl of warm oats each evening to keep her weight up. “A lot is down to care: the correct diet, a lot of space, companionship and vaccinations,” says Brooks, whose home is sprinkled with rabbit ornaments. “I don’t know how she was treated before. But it’s almost like she’s trusting me at last. After all these years, she finally thinks I’m OK.”

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Beano, an Amazon parrot

Beano, Amazon parrot, age 44

Beano

Amazon parrot

Age 44

If parrots’ vocabularies were any guide to their age, Beano would be a toddler. Yet although his lexicon may extend to just three words, his life has stretched into its fifth decade. “He’s a bit like a child that never grows up,” says his owner Lindsey Carlos Clarke. His feathers are no less exuberant, and his occasional visits to the vet involve little more than a beak trim.

Carlos Clarke’s former husband Bob bought the bird from a dingy pet shop circa 1970. Blue-fronted Amazons in captivity have a life expectancy of 37. In the wild, Beano would almost certainly have succumbed to a passing predator by now. Even in Chelsea and Fulham, his longevity has been one lucky escape after another. A visiting pet toucan tried to break his neck. A trip on a remote-controlled car cost him a claw.

But today he is still gaily squawking with disobedience from behind a bowl of walnuts. Carlos Clarke is used to it: “I do sometimes wonder, why have we got this delinquent?”

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