Tigger the mostly ginger cat from Athens will soon turn 20. He has lived through fire, wanderlust and the loss of his best buddy.

The average house cat welcomes a perfect stranger with eyes cut, hackles up and a mighty hiss.

Not Tigger.

The nearly 20-year-old Athens tomcat runs up to visitors like some kind of happy-go-lucky dog, only not as goofy.

“His best friend was our Labrador,” said Rebecca Clemons, who wanted to tell Tigger’s story “because he’s getting up there.”

Why not? After all, Tigger’s got it goin’ on. He has lived through fire, the loss of his best buddy and a bit of the wanderlust.

Tigger is a massive, mostly ginger cat whose mind is sharp, even if his golden eyes have gone a bit cloudy.

“He likes to sit on my lap while I watch TV, and he loves belly rubs,” Rebecca said.

Although Tigger once possessed the standard array of cat toys — glitter balls, catnip mice and the like — he doesn’t play with toys anymore, Rebecca said.

“He likes to sleep in the the bedroom and look out the window,” she said. Tigger has honed this skill to such a perfection, one would expect him to be chunky. Instead, his spine sticks out a bit on top despite his canned-food diet. For those unfamiliar with cat fare, canned food is the bomb.

Tigger can hear a can of it being uncorked from any point in the house. Pop open a can and Tigger comes charging. (Well, his version of charging, anyway.) If Tigger arrives in the kitchen before Rebecca gets the goods in his bowl, he hisses and moans until the chow is there. If this makes him seem like a grouch, it shouldn’t. It is simply the way of the cat.

Fire, friend and absence

Rebecca’s son, Jeff, got Tigger in his divorce when the feline was still a kitten. While the couple still lived together on Menard Street, an electric wall heater ignited some bedding one day and the house caught fire. Flames spread quickly and the family had to escape before finding Tigger.

“We told the firefighters Tigger was still in there,” Jeff said. “We didn’t think they would be able to find him; we thought he was gone. Then a firefighter came out holding Tigger.

“He was covered in soot,” Rebecca said, laughing. “But he was alright.”

The firefighter had found Tigger hiding under a bed with only his tail sticking out. The firefighter grabbed the tail and saved the kitten. The tip of Tigger’s tail is slightly damaged to this day, Jeff said.

When Jeff first got Tigger, he was an outdoor cat. When he first came to Rebecca’s Becky Street home, he didn’t know the area, she said. He slipped away and worried his family sick. Five days later, Tigger returned none the worse for wear. No explanation as to where he had been; he just showed up.

Twice more, Tigger went on the lam, and each time, he was missing for exactly five days before coming home without a mark. Where was he? What was he doing? “Cat stuff” was all anyone could figure.

After the third disappearance, the family decided enough was enough.

“He became an indoor cat after that,” Jeff said, looking askance at Tigger.

It wouldn’t be the last loss Tigger would have to overcome. Jackie, the Clemons’ Labrador and Tigger’s best canine friend, died last year.

“They played together all the time, like dogs,” she said.

Tigger could not understand where his buddy had gone.

“He cried for him, and he looked and looked for him,” she said.

Eventually, Tigger adapted as best he could to the loss of his sidekick.

Although Tigger shows signs of age, such as weight loss, Rebecca said he has never had to go to a veterinarian, other than for neutering.

“He’s always been healthy,” she said.

Despite his health, both mother and son know Tigger won’t live forever. Rebecca fears he won’t live much longer, simply because of his age. Like those of us who have beloved and elderly pets, they are both prepared and not prepared for Tigger’s trip to cat heaven. In the meantime, they will rejoice in lap sitting, belly rubs and cuddling with their fuzzy friend.

The average house cat welcomes a perfect stranger with eyes cut, hackles up and a mighty hiss.

Not Tigger.

The nearly 20-year-old Athens tomcat runs up to visitors like some kind of happy-go-lucky dog, only not as goofy.

“His best friend was our Labrador,” said Rebecca Clemons, who wanted to tell Tigger’s story “because he’s getting up there.”

Why not? After all, Tigger’s got it goin’ on. He has lived through fire, the loss of his best buddy, and a bit of the wanderlust.

Tigger is a massive mostly ginger cat whose mind is sharp even if his golden eyes are bit cloudy.

“He likes to sit on my lap while I watch TV and he loves belly rubs,” Rebecca said.

Although Tigger once possessed the standard array of cat toys — glitter balls, catnip mice and the like — he doesn’t play with toys anymore, Rebecca said.

“He likes to sleep in the the bedroom and look out the window,” she said. Tigger has honed this skill to such a perfection, one would expect him to be chunky. Instead, his spine sticks out a bit on top despite his canned-food diet. For those unfamiliar with cat fare, canned food is the bomb.

Tigger can hear a can of it being uncorked from any point in the house. Pop open a can and Tigger comes charging. (Well, his version of charging, anyway.) If Tigger arrives in the kitchen before Rebecca gets the goods in his bowl, he hisses and moans until the chow is there. If this makes him seem like a grouch, it shouldn’t. It is the way of the cat.

Fire, friend and absence

Rebecca’s son, Jeff, got Tigger in his divorce when the feline was still a kitten. While the couple still lived together on Menard Street, an electric wall heater ignited some bedding one day and the house caught fire. Flames spread quickly and the family had to escape before finding Tigger.

“We told the firefighters Tigger was still in there,” Jeff said. “We didn’t think they would be able to find him; we thought he was gone. Then a firefighter came out holding Tigger.

“He was covered in soot,” Rebecca said, laughing. “But he was alright.”

The firefighter had found Tigger hiding under a bed with only his tail sticking out. The firefighter grabbed the tail and saved the kitten. The tip of Tigger’s tail is slightly damaged to this day, Jeff said.

It would not be the last pain Tigger would have to overcome.

Last year, the Clemons’ Labrador, “Jackie,” died at age 17 or 18, Rebecca said.

“They played together all the time, like dogs,” she said.

Tigger could not understand where his buddy had gone.

“He cried for him and he looked and looked for him,” she said.

Eventually, Tigger adapted as best he could to the loss of his sidekick.

When Jeff first got Tigger, he was an outdoor cat. When he first came to Rebecca’s Ezell Road home, he didn’t know the area, she said. He slipped away and worried his family sick. Five days later, Tigger returned none the worse for wear. No explanation as to where he had been; he just showed back up.

Twice more Tigger went on the lam. Each time he was missing for exactly five days. Each time he came home without a mark. Where was he? What was he doing? Cat stuff was all anyone could figure. The third disappearance was a charm.

“He became an indoor cat after that,” Jeff said, looking askance at Tigger.

Although Tigger shows signs of age, such as weight loss, Rebecca said he has never had to go to a veterinarian, other than for neutering.

“He’s always been healthy,” she said.

Despite his health, both mother and son know Tigger won’t live forever. Rebecca fears he won’t live much longer, simply because of his age. Like those of us who have beloved and elderly pets, they are both prepared and not prepared for Tigger’s trip to cat Heaven. In the meantime, they will rejoice in lap sitting, belly rubs and cuddling with their fuzzy friend.