He was nearly 21 years old. I found him up at our local Petsmart back in 1996, the year after we got Maverick, one of our German Shepherds and he was already a year old when I adopted him. It was our son, who was still in high school, who named him Loki (the Norwegian god of mischief). He outlived both Maverick and Rommel, two of our male German Shepherds and then Lady. He is the oldest-living cat I've ever owned, or animal, for that matter. I watched him go from a vibrant, energetic cat in his prime to an old -man cat. He would wander around the front yard and even the birds would make fun of him, but he didn't mind. I built him a little house right outside the front door, where he could feel the warm air coming out. We have had some frosty nights, so I put a sheet and then a nice, warm blanket over it and I made sure the sides were covered. He had two cat beds (so he could choose) and the minute I would step outside, he would come out of his "fort". Water dribbled down his chin when he drank and sometimes it seemed like he was confused. But, I didn't wish to take him from the ONLY home he had known for nearly 21 years. He died peacefully out back, in his own yard, and I buried him right where he fell.
RIP, Loki...I will miss your mischievous soul.