I moved to California from New Jersey July 4th, 1999. I had
graduated college in May and hopped on a Greyhound Bus (with my best friend
& next door neighbor). While I don’t recommend that mode of transportation
for a cross country move, it was the cheapest and most scenic for a poor post
graduation college student. We left Port Authority New York on a Thursday
evening and arrived in downtown Sacramento early Sunday morning.
Pam’s Aunt (my dad’s baby sister) picked us up at the bus station and
the rest is history. I have remained in California ever since … it was 13 years
this past July.
Fast forward to late January 2000 and I had just moved into my own
apartment in mid-town Sacramento. I was ecstatic to finally be living on my own
and having a place to call my own. Even though I was over-joyed to finally feel
like an adult living by myself, it was also lonely. I had five roommates
throughout college and lived with my aunt when I first move out to California
so I had truly never been 100% on my own before.
My aunt knew how much I wanted a cat. My landlord allowed pets but
required a pet deposit that was pretty steep for a girl who now had to come up
with both rent and a car payment … in addition to student loans. One weekend,
out of the blue my aunt loaned me the pet deposit and took me to the SPCA to
find myself a cat. I will never forget that day.
My childhood kitties always found us by showing up on our door step. I
had never been to an SPCA before and was honestly quite shocked and saddened by
all the kitties in cages. If I could have, I would have taken them all home
with me.
The people at the SPCA let you “pick” a cat and then take that cat into
the “get to know you room.” You were
able to spend a little time and then had to put the cat back and had the option
of playing with another one … while all the other kitties watched. This made me
sad.
I had my eye on a few but quite a few kitties came in “pairs” and I
wasn’t about to have two cats in my shoe box apartment. Then I passed a cage
containing a 5 month old kitten that didn’t really look like a kitty … he
looked more like jack-rabbit with his big pointy ears and his orange fur with tiger
stripes. He mewed at me and I asked the girl if I could see him. She laughed
because apparently he had been seen by lots of people that day and was tired of
being taken in and out of his cage. Needless to say, he wasn’t happy to be
taken out again.
She put us in the “get to know you room” and he quickly darted under a
chair. Hmm, not much personality I thought but still quite cute. Eventually he
came out from under the chair and stood in front of both my aunt and myself. He
looked at me and I looked at him and I kid you not, what follows next actually
happened …. (background – growing up my childhood cat and love of my life was
full of tricks; he could roll over on command and was quite a showman during
the holidays with this trick) .. Back to the SPCA - I looked at this orange
tiger cat with pointy ears who was staring at me with big eyes and said
“Well buddy, if you could roll over or something I’d take you home with me
right now” …. Bam!! He dropped and rolled over right on cue! No joke. My aunt and
I looked at each and laughed and I said “I’ll take him.” I named him Jack because #1 He looked more
like a jack-rabbit than a cat and #2 The SPCA lady had said he’d been in and
out of that cage like a Jack in the Box and #3 The name just fit. Jack the Cat.
By the way … no, he never rolled over again. He got me.
Jack about 5 months old
So with great sadness I write this to say that on Monday, November 5,
2012, Jack the Cat, at age 13 has passed. I can barely write this without
sobbing so please excuse any typos from here on out. Jack had been through a lot in his life.
He was my boyfriend watcher when I lived in my apartment … giving any
boy that came over grief. Vans was probably given the most grief. I think Jack
knew Vans and I were meant to be and so he gave Vans a really hard time for a
long time.
Jack would ride around in my car with me all the time. He was a
polydactyl cat or commonly referred to as a Hemmingway Cat because he had an
extra toe on every single paw … which made trimming his nails regularly quite
the challenge but the vet was fascinated by him. Everyone was.
Jack moved with me back into my aunt’s house when I lost my job with
PBS. He moved with me into our first home after I married Vans. He was by my
side every day when I was pregnant with the Peanut. Although he was not
thrilled when she was born, the two quickly became friends and he looked out
for her.
Peanut's first Christmas with Jack
Helping her unwrap her gifts.
Our move to El Dorado Hills was a bit rougher on Jack I think.
Additionally, I was pregnant with Squeaker and he knew. Once again, he stayed
by my side when I was pregnant but after she was born; he kept his distance I
think realizing it was a bit harder to compete with two kids.
Jack was an indoor cat and sadly our new home, although filled with
lots of windows, didn’t allow him an opportunity to sit on our patio like our
enclosed condo.
It seemed like his sickness came on all of a sudden but I often wonder
if we perhaps we just didn’t notice because we got sucked into the busy lives
of work, kids and house duties. He still had spunk and he still slept by my
side. No matter what, every single night, when I crawled into bed, Jack would
crawl and snuggle himself right under my right armpit and sleep there. Then,
without fail, in the middle of the night, he’d get up and move to the left arm
pit. I used to grumble and moan and complain about terrible sleep but last
night … without him… was probably the worst night of sleep I have ever had.
Instinctively, my arm created a nook but sadly, Jack was not there.
The house is lonely and cold. No one was there to greet us when we came
home last night. Jack used to sit on the stairs and watch the girls eat dinner.
Last night Squeaker pointed to the stairs with a questioning look like “Where
is Jack?”
Squeaker and Jack on the stairs a few days ago
If you are still reading, thank you. I just felt the need to devote
something to Jack. The vet gave him his passport to kitty heaven on Monday and
I held him in my arms the entire time. The Jack I knew was long gone but a
glimpse of him did return when he got an adrenaline rush upon arriving at the
vet’s office. I think he feared being poked and prodded again because for the
last few weeks we fought to figure out what was wrong with him.
He was and always will be my only baby boy. He was my best furry friend
and he forever remains in my heart which right now hurts and feels empty. Vans
is feeling the same way which is touching because despite the rough start to
their relationship, Vans and Jack had a bond as the only two males in the
house. It will never cease to amaze me,
how much losing a pet can hurt. Jack wasn’t just a pet or a cat, he was family
and I loved him as if he was my own biological child. Losing him hurts. A lot.
We miss you Jack. I miss you.
Into my world you came with a flare
Tiny and small with striped orange hair.
Big pointy ears and a wet little nose
And four furry paws with a few extra toes.
All night you would play. All day you would sleep.
Not a moment of peace would you let me keep.
Chasing laser pointers and eating hair ties.
You were always protecting me, especially from flies.
You traveled with me through life’s crazy waves.
You basked in the sun most of your days.
At night you would sleep in the crook of my arm.
And you stayed there all morning even after the alarm.
You’d greet us each evening right at the door.
Even after two kids, you’d come back for more.
I love you more than you could ever know.
It pained me so much to watch you go.
In my head and my heart you will always be …
That furry little baby sleeping right next to me.
I love you Jacky boy.
Jack in his prime. King of the patio.
