My cat is 21 years old. He has trouble eating dry food so I feed him canned twice a day to keep his weight up. But he is now a crotchety old man, so every morning he gets on the bed and howls at me to wake up and feed him.
Oddly enough, it is something of a fear of Coily that reminds me to stop and appreciate my beasts even when they're getting on my nerves. Cat-sprites have unleashed their wrath on me a couple times in the past year, and whatever small regrets I might have, "didn't appreciate them when I had the chance" isn't on the list.