Joke of the Day: A Wealthy Old Man Was Lying On His Bed
A wealthy old man was lying on his deathbed in his mansion. Surrounded by his family — children, grandchildren, and even great-grandchildren — he knew his time was near. Everyone stood quietly, heads bowed, waiting for his final words.
With a faint breath, the old man whispered, “I can see the light… It’s time.” His eldest son leaned in close, holding his father’s hand gently.
“Father,” the son said, “do you have any last words of wisdom for us?”
The old man nodded slowly. “Yes… yes, my boy,” he said, voice quivering. “Don’t… don’t trust anyone… not even your own shadow…”
A hush fell over the room.
“…especially after sunset,” he added with a weak chuckle.
Everyone smiled, trying to laugh through the tears. But the old man wasn’t finished. He cleared his throat, summoned what little strength he had left, and looked around at the tearful crowd.
“You’re all here,” he said, eyes twinkling, “just like I thought… circling like vultures.”
Gasps erupted. The lawyer standing in the corner nearly dropped his briefcase.
“But don’t worry,” the old man continued. “I made sure each of you is remembered in my will…”
Everyone perked up, leaning forward.
“…I left you all something special — my debt,” he grinned.
Groans filled the room as everyone sat back, disappointed.
“But seriously,” he said, “I left the mansion to whoever loved me the most.”
The family looked at each other nervously.
“Who loves me the most?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
His youngest great-granddaughter, only six years old, climbed onto the bed and hugged him tightly.
“I love you, Grandpa! Even more than candy!”
He smiled. “Well, looks like the mansion goes to you, sweetheart.”
The rest of the family gasped. “She’s six!” the eldest daughter shouted.
“Yes,” he replied, “and already more genuine than the rest of you.”
The lawyer cleared his throat. “Actually, sir, you signed the will last week and it says the mansion goes to your cat.”
The room went silent. Everyone turned to the plump Persian cat lounging on the windowsill, licking its paw with total indifference.
The old man laughed weakly. “Ah, yes… Mr. Whiskers never judged me.”
The children began to protest.
“But I took care of you!” one cried.
“I massaged your feet every night!” another added.
The old man smiled. “And I appreciated it. Which is why you’ll each receive a very special gift…”
They leaned in again.
“…a personalized thank-you note. Written in calligraphy.”
At that moment, the heart monitor began to beep irregularly.
Everyone held their breath.
Then the old man opened one eye and said, “Just kidding.”
They all sighed with relief.
Then it flatlined.
The room stood frozen in silence. Suddenly, Mr. Whiskers let out a meow.
The lawyer picked up his briefcase. “Well,” he said, “as per the will, the cat gets the house, the cars, the stocks, and the wine cellar.”
One of the grandsons whispered, “I told you we should’ve been nicer to the cat.”
Mr. Whiskers stretched and walked over to the fireplace, where a fresh can of gourmet tuna sat waiting.
The family walked out in stunned silence. Except for the little girl, who turned back and whispered, “Don’t worry, Grandpa. I’ll take care of Mr. Whiskers.”
The cat purred and curled up on the bed, now his.
And from that day on, the legend of the rich man’s cat lived on — complete with a butler, chef, and a tiny golden collar.
Moral of the story? Be nice to old people. And their pets. Especially their pets.
