Walking Jazzy Home

/ still a dreamer

We walked together for so many years – she, the Princess, and me, her happy minion – until the day when I walked her home. R.I. P. Jazzy – 7/12/24 – a small art treasure in feline form.

There is never a “good time” or a “good way” to lose an animal you love. It’s always awful. I think one of the worst moments is when you come home, and the spot they always sat to welcome you has no one there.

I adopted Jazzy at 3 years old, back in August, 2013, a few weeks after my handsome Claude passed over. She was a featured kitty at my local pet food shop, looking for a home, and she found mine. She had lived with an elderly man, who, I surmised, had not handled her very much. After getting through an adjustment period, she was not the cuddly cat my previous cats had been, albeit adorable.

Over the years that followed, she became increasingly affectionate, though I can say, she was the most dominant cat I have ever had. It was “her way or the highway” in kitty form – a picky eater, wouldn’t use a hooded litter box, and was pretty sure that I should plan meals and any other activities around her whims. Luckily, she was also sweet and charming, and now cuddly.

Perhaps a year or two ago, her glucose was high; we successfully controlled it with a special diet. Then her thyroid became hyperactive – more meds, which she was very cooperative in taking. Things kept moving along pretty well until about 6+ weeks ago, when she began caterwauling one or two times in the middle of the night.

I followed through with all needed lab tests, but they revealed nothing abnormal. Essentially, she was in good health, except somewhere inside her, she wasn’t. This past Friday, 7/12/2024, I noticed Jazzy acting strangely. I rushed her to the vet, and it soon became apparent, there was only going to be one ending to this story.

I am always grateful that I have been able to see something going wrong and to be able to do something about it before it became too late. I am grateful that there has always been a vet to help my animals in their final moments on Earth. I am also always grateful that I have been able to hold my animals in my arms, and help them pass over peacefully, loved until the end. I am grateful for Jazzy, and all the sweetness and light she brought into my life. I don’t think I could ask for more.

12 thoughts on “Walking Jazzy Home”

    • Thank you, Kitty. She truly was a beautiful girl, and she came so far from when I first adopted her. It’s amazing when you think in how many ways we each adapted to one another. Even if she was always sure she was in charge. She had a `tude that was still adorable.

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  3. Adorable eyes. She reminds of a past cat I once had who was also black with exception of a small patch of white on her chest. Me and my mum named her Smokey.
    RIP to your cat, Jazzy. For her changing as she did with you, she enjoyed being there with you. Those adorable eyes speak volumes of that.
    I think that is what hurts the most, the getting up and the place feeling empty because there is no beloved cat being where you would usually find it to be.
    Sending hugs and my deepest sympathies.

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    • Liz, thank you for your very kind and insightful thoughts. It took a little time, but I know she loved me … and trusted me implicitly, even when she was frightened. That’s always a big step for any animal.

      Yes, the still-existing expectation that she’ll be in her favorite spots whenever I look there – that really is the hard part. Again, thank you. ❤️

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    • Thanks, Pam, I appreciate it. And welcome it. I’m moving along slowly, but then … something … she’s not peeking around the corner … whatever it is. It takes time, not to mention, she’s probably sitting right next to me complaining that lunch is late. :-)

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      • I will tell you (’cause you’ll understand) that I still “talk” to Henry (our golden, gone now for 9 years). And he still appears every once in a while. We can leave the “portal” open for our beloved pets, and they will walk in every now and then. <3

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        • In the few weeks before Jazzy left, I’d be sitting at my desk, working, and would feel a little cold nose on my calf. I instinctively reached down to pet Jazzy’s head, but when I looked, she was never there. I believe it was Pumpkin,my little orange man who lived next door. Yes, they are indeed around, probably more often than we think! It’s nice to be visited, no? 😇

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