Walking Jazzy Home

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.

Pumpkin – My Little Orange Man

Pumpkin
2005 – February 26, 2020
Rest in Peace

How do we ever say goodbye to a friend?

I first met Pumpkin when I moved here, about 13-1/2 years ago. He was at least one year old, handsome, leonine. His orange coat, whether thick and luxurious in winter or in a lighter summer length, was always immaculately groomed. He was out most days, and in the next door family’s garage at night. He took no sass from anyone – cat, dog, or human, and ran the neighborhood. I called him The Mayor.

Two fearless creatures – Pumpkin and a young praying mantis.

Whatever had happened to Pumpkin prior to my arrival resulted in his being somewhat aggressive when handled, except for being petted around the head. He showed he cared in other ways, but the expression of affection was strictly on his terms.

With his beautiful coat in its long-haired glory.

Because I worked from home, he and I became better and better buddies, especially after his sidekick, Cloudy, died two years earlier. And in the last 4-5 months, even more so.

He had always come with me to get the mail; slept under or on my car for shade or warmth, depending on the season, at my various doors following the warmth of the sun; and kept me company when I was outdoors. But now he stayed close whenever he was allowed outside. His health began to decline, his quality of life to diminish. Once defensive about being touched, Pumpkin now began to relish the attention.

Pumpkin trusting, relaxed, and sound asleep just outside my office door.

Last Wednesday, my neighbor told me she’d made an appointment to have him put to sleep. This just crushed me, but I was grateful to not only be able to go along, but to hold him in my arms in his last moments on earth. After all these years – and for just this one time – I gave Pumpkin a kiss on the forehead.

Sweet dreams, little one. You were loved.

 

Because She Lets Me … A 1-Minute Post

Without a doubt, Jazzy is the most demanding and vocal-about-it animal – cat or dog – that I have ever had the pleasure of sharing my life with.

But then … she has a ridiculous amount of patience (especially for a cat) and humors her silly Mom and lets me do this … and waits while I get the camera. Animals never cease to surprise and amaze me. It’s why we love them.

The Mayor

Pumpkin can be one tough customer. Cats tend to have a lot more rules than dogs to begin with, but Pumpkin has serious rules, especially regarding where you can touch him. And sometimes even when.

He belongs to the people next door, and is an indoor/outdoor cat. At night, he’s in their garage with his bed, food, water, litter. Days, he’s out. Let me state first that he has me totally wrapped around his paw. And that’s OK by me. I put food out on my back porch during the day and when he’s let out of the garage, he gets breakfast, and later in the day, a snack or lunch.  He can be very affectionate at times. He likes attention … until he doesn’t. And I have become finely attuned to that subtlety.

When he was younger and feeling his best, he ruled the neighborhood. Roamed about making sure any other cats knew who was king. I call him “The Mayor.” But he’s now 12 or 13, and stiff in the joints from age and a run-in a couple years ago with some kind of moving vehicle. He recovered with a limp and just kept on going because he’s that kind of cat. Now, however, we have some new cats in the neighborhood – they’re younger, bigger, and pushy. I have some concerns about Punkie because he still thinks he’s all that and a bag of chips, and I’m not so sure that’s true.

On occasion, I hear that loud rowwwwwr sound we know cats make when one is challenging another. Because I work from home, I can usually hop outside and chase the intruder away, if Pumpkin hasn’t already. The other night was one of those times.

It was nearly 7 pm, dark, very cold, with winds about 25 mph. The people next door hadn’t gotten home yet to put him in, but I expected they would be soon. I was reading when I heard that keening sound. I jumped up, put on the back porch light, and headed down my driveway to the street. There they were, three of them, like points on a triangle – Pumpkin, Yellow from across the street, and the tuxedo newcomer who’s been pushing up on Pumpkin lately.

“What’s going on here?” I yelled in my most taking-no-nonsense voice.

They turned and briefly looked at me, but not moving an inch or taking their eyes off one another for more than two seconds.

“You!” I shouted to the tuxedo. “Get going!” He knows I mean business, and ran down the street.

“You, too, Yellow!”

Yellow just stared at me.

I took a few steps into the road and yelled again, “I mean it!” And he ran back to his house.

I turned and started towards my back porch. “C’mon, Pumpkin, let’s get you fed and safe and inside for the night.”

Still puffed to twice his size in fight-ready mode, tail held high, he looked at me as we walked. “I sure showed them,” he said with a satisfied sort of look on his face.

“Yeah, tough guy, you sure did.”

A Position of Trust

Sometimes we have moments in our busy days that just touch our hearts. Here is mine today.

PumpkinSleepingOnPorch2

As I walked past my side door earlier, I happened to look out and notice – there was Pumpkin, my next door neighbor’s cat, sound asleep in as relaxed and trusting a position as one could ever ask of any cat.

Why this is particularly touching is that Pumpkin is not a trusting cat. In the time that I’ve lived here, my neighbors got a dog, and the dog, with full run of their property when she is out, largely displaced Pumpkin and their other cat from what was once their domain. More and more the two cats came over here to spend time with me. (Admittedly, the fact that I was providing food and water was an influence, but they also clearly enjoy the company and affection.)

From being a rather curmudgeonly fellow, Pumpkin has come to be far more trusting and now seeks out my attention. He lets me know when he’s had enough, and we’re good so long as I keep an eye on his tail. I am quite sure I cannot pick him up without suffering serious damage, yet he’s become far friendlier over the years. Seeing him sleeping so soundly just outside my open door, his little back feet paired and curled up and his breathing deep and steady, tells me more about his trust than I might have ever known.

Rushing as we do, it’s easy to miss moments like this. I hope you’ve found your moment today.