My little Sweat Pea

I don't know why I didn't post this. I had actually forgotten I had written it when I did. So I guess I should polish it up and send it out to my little world. I wrote it way back in January.

I didn't think I was going to loose her later that day when I and my dad took Miss Grace to the Emergency Vet. I thought they would figure it out, give a shot or something, or say it will pass and she'll get better over time. I really did. Instead I spent over $800.00 for tests, blood work, and ultrasounds that didn't answer the questions I had and as the day went on, the weaker she became. She wasn't going to get better. There was no miracle shot. There was only the realization that my cat was dying... quickly. And so after all the tests were done and the results were given to me, I decided I needed to say goodbye and end her life with dignity. It was not fair to her to make her live the last few hours or days it would have taken for her to die naturally in a state of fear and anxiety. The doctor assured me she was not in physical pain, but still. That's no way to live.

I had a thought after her death later that night after I brought her home and we buried her in the backyard. That she died very much like her OG human, my mom.

My mom knew she was going to die that day and had the night nurse call my dad who then called us and we all went to her. Within 24 hours of my mom telling the nurse to call her family, she was gone. And just like my mom, within 24 hours of Grace's first symptoms, she was gone.

Miss Grace was 14 and a half years old. In cat years, she was an old lady. I often called her a cranky old lady. She often looked cranky or perturbed. Her adopted brother would annoy her and pester her. So she would return his annoyance and pestering with hisses, growls, and very sharp claws to the head.

It was never figured out what was killing Miss Grace. But there was swelling in her brain which caused her almost complete and sudden blindness. Was it just swelling? Or more likely I think, a growth or tumor in her brain that finally grew to a point that messed with her nervous system and such in her brain. Because she wasn't just suddenly blind, she was also confused, disoriented, and felt like to me that she didn't know who I was either. She didn't know who her adopted brother was.

We'll never know. She wouldn't have lived long enough for the MRI to be done, which would have been the next thing.

But also like my mom, when I went back to see her to say goodbye and the tech brought her to me, I could see that indeed she wasn't in physical pain, but she was also no longer there. The Grace I knew was gone already and just a shell was left. My mom was gone before her body stopped working.

Seemed almost fitting that Miss Grace and her OG Human before her, both left this world similarly. Painless, peacefully, and quickly.

Miss Grace died January 26th, 2020.

It took Mr. Quirk, her annoying adopted brother a few weeks to mourn her. He really did miss her. He would search the entire house looking for her. And a few months for him to adjust to being the only cat in the family. I realized that for as long as I had Mr. Quirk, he was never the only cat until now. I adopted Quirk with his gay lover Tom. And when Tom died, I moved Quirk to Grace's abode (my parents house).

I do miss her on occasion and I am glad and thankful I still have Mr. Quirk in my life. I am a crazy cat lady. I have embraced this fact of life, and am a better human for it.

But I'm a grown-up

I have to keep reminding myself that I am a grown ass adult. I can do whatever I want. If I want to stay up til 4am watching random YouTube videos, I can. If I want to sit in bed all day in my cat PJ's, I can. There's no one telling me I can't or shouldn't do that, but me. There's nothing wrong with staying up til 4am. I don't have a job where I have to perform brain surgery at 8am. No. So why do I think that it's so wrong? It isn't. Maybe it was a bad idea when I was still in school or had a job that started at 8 or 9am. But I don't. What's the big deal? Why do I hate myself?

Why does that voice still have so much power over my choices? Why do I still believe it when it tells me staying up til 4am is bad? Or that waking up at noon is lazy? Or that wandering around my house in my PJ's all day is pathetic? Hey, I don't wear them to Wally World, okay? I don't even shop at Wally World! Get off my back, man.

Growing up we're told as kids and teenagers by our parents that you need to go to bed at a "decent" hour, and get your proper 8 hours of sleep, and get up every morning and put on proper "you're going out in public" clothing. Go to school, do your homework. Did you brush your teeth? When did you last shower, you stink.

I think that it is so ingrained into my psyche that it has become this annoying nag of a voice in my head. So that every time I don't want to sleep and watch video's or read weird articles on the internet or play farm heroes on my ipad til 4am, I feel this overwhelming sense of guilt. Or when I just don't want to go outside my house and only get dressed from the waist up (bra's are important to me), and stay in my cat PJ's and Dr. Who slippers all day, I feel like I was a lazy slob or crazy cat lady shut-in who just wasted an entire day of her life doing absolutely nothing? I may have actually accomplished many things in my PJ's, but I'll still feel like I just wasted away, sitting on my ass on my bed surrounded by my cats. I only have two cats, I'm not an official crazy cat lady yet. Wait, how many cats does it take to become a crazy cat lady? Are their rules or requirements? Hold on, let me check... the INTERNET!!!!

A cat lady is a cultural archetype or a stock character, often depicted as a woman, a middle-aged or elderly spinster, who owns many pet cats. The term can be considered pejorative, though it is sometimes embraced.
Women who have cats have long been associated with the concept of spinsterhood. In more recent decades, the concept of a cat lady has been associated with "romance-challenged (often career-oriented) women". Specifically, it has also been embraced by lesbian and queer women.

Oh Wikipedia.... Wait there's a syndrome? Crazy Cat Lady Syndrome? What's this? Oh, it's just toxoplasmosis, a very common parasitic disease that in healthy people shows in flu like symptoms or no symptoms at all. It is contracted by eating poorly cooked food or infected cat feces. Ahhhh, okay. Wait, I said that wrong. I'm not implying that people eat cat poop... well I'm sure some people have. The human species is quite dumb. So some cats have this parasite, they poop it out, and some stupid human cleans their little box with their bare hands? Who does that? They make poop scoopers people. You never have to actually touch the poop. Gross. And wash your hands. Wash your goddam hands... with soap!

So yeah. Wash your hands, wear a bra, and then do whatever the hell you want. Tell that nag to fuck off!

Tallulah Mae's first offical maiden voyage: Part IV

Our final destination was Cheyenne Wyoming. This is a special place for Tallulah Mae's inhabitants. It's like a second home. Sis has a unique bond, since mom and dad used to ship her off here during the summers of her youth. Sis and Grandma are tight, yo.  Grandma is now 95, mostly blind, lives in an independent senior housing complex, and is feisty as ever. She is also the mother of dad, his sisters (Aunt1 and 2), and brother (Uncle1). She shall be heretofore, Gutsy Granny.

First order of business was to move into our new home for our stay. We put dad in Aunt2's guest room, and sis, nephew2, and I slept in Tallulah Mae in Aunt2's driveway. Aunt1 from Florida, beat us to Cheyenne, so she got the prime spot of Gutsy Granny's guest room.

Floofy puppy loved trying to catch all the bunnies in Aunt2's neighborhood. They are overrun by bunnies. Bunnies, bunnies, everywhere.

Second order of business was a birthday party for everyone. Because when you're 95, you celebrate all things, all the time, so why not?

Gutsy Granny met floofy puppy and fell in love.

Later on in the evening, Gutsy Granny beat us all at cards, even setting her precious first born (dad). My streak was over.

We took Tallulah Mae to Uncle1's house so they all could meet her and we had a great time catching up.

Floofy puppy finally met his doppelgangers (other white floofy older puppies). Uncle1 and his lady AuntL have two white floofs.

Their son, Cousin1 also brought his BIG floof. His name is Little Bear. Floofy puppy loved that there was a big friend to play with, since the white floofs were not interested in playtime.

We had a great time eating brownies and ice cream and drinking coffee. We showed everyone Tallulah Mae. But soon it was time to leave. Cousin1 and 2 and the mini cousins needed to get back home to their crazy busy lives. Mini cousins aren't so mini anymore. Mini cousin1 just finished her first year of college and mini cousin2 is taller than everyone, plays football, and is not even 16 yet!

It was then time to visit with even more cousins at Aunt2's house. Her daughter, Cousin3 and her mimi cousins drove up from cow town (Greeley Co.) Her other half, UncleE took off of "work" (he's a volunteer) and came over for lunch. So nephew2 got on the riding mower and helped Aunt2 get the place ready... for the "severe storm" that was rolling in.

We were constantly watching the weather. It's not an official trip until you experience Wyoming weather! Even my phone was telling me about the "extreme weather" coming. It never did hit Aunt2's house.

Mini Cousin4 waiting patiently for sis to finish sewing the buttons on her new giraffe dress

We did what every family does: bond in front of the t.v.

UncleE went to back to "work", and after went to check on his horses and batten down his place. When he came back, he said there was a tornado that had touched down about 6 miles from his place. So of coarse we all go outside to watch.

Uncle1 calls to mach sure Gutsy Granny is with us, since Aunt2 has a basement, and Gutsy Granny doesn't. He also felt bad for us because we had no where to put Tallulah Mae to escape the hail... if it came. But that is what insurance is for. Uncle1 said he put his truck in his barn, and his cars were in the garage. Mini cousin3 didn't like the lightning and thunder, but mini cousin4 was outside with us crazies watching the clouds.

Aunt1, 2, and I discussed how you can tell a Wyoming native from everyone else. The natives are out on their decks, like us, nonchalantly gazing out at the clouds discussing the days events. Everyone else is in their basement worrying about their food stock and cars.

Mini Cousin4 sure loved floofy puppy!

Well, like I said, the storm passed us right on by, hardly any rain, and only one little hail ball. However, Uncle1's house got hit by 3" hail and took out his skylights in the kitchen and barn, steel gutters, his truck that was in the barn, the hot tub cover, irrigation system, and made his lawn look like the surface of the moon, plus a car plowed into the telephone pole outside his house. It plowed into the pole because the windshield got shattered by the giant hail balls from the sky. So they had an exciting evening. However, everyone in Wyoming has hail insurance, so they are covered. Their only dilemma is which insurance to use for the truck. The trucks insurance or the home insurance. Since the truck was in the barn (which is covered under the home insurance), do they use the home insurance for the truck or not.

The next day it was time for Aunt1 to fly home.

We hung out at Gutsy Granny's, ate food, played games, ate some more.

Gutsy Granny's complex has a pool table!

And so the days passed. Nephew2 got a hold of cousin5 (Aunt2 and UncleE's sons son) and he came by Gutsy Granny's and hung out. He showed us videos of him bronc riding. He rides for LCCC (Laramie County Community College), he also just finished his freshman year of college. You know you're in the "wild west" when the schools offer rodeo as a sport. He then invited nephew2 out to a bonfire. When nephew2 came back, he said they never made it out to the bonfire. Instead they went fishing at a pond by the side of a road, and then met one of cousin5's friends at a gas station and just hung out. Wow, the youth of Wyoming sure need a nightlife. But in his defense, his dad is a cop, and works the night shift, so the last thing you want is to get caught by the cops doing something stupid, who also happens to be your father. Talk about a double whammy.

Pretty soon it was coming time to get ready to head home. Nephew2 got his girlfriend Wyoming gifts, we got our house sitters thank you gifts, and nephew2 bought fireworks. You can buy fireworks in Wyoming 365 days a year, at least in Laramie County. I think it's state wide though, but I'm not a local. So if you hear anything coming from sis' house, it's just nephew2 setting off his blackcats and smoke bombs.

Dad spent our last two nights with Gutsy Granny which meant I got to move inside to the guest room! Woo-Hoo! I didn't have to wear my ear plugs for two whole nights! Sis snores like a freight train! We decided to leave really early since our first drive day back home was going to be 600 miles, and dad thought it would take us close to 10 hours to get to Wendover Nevada/Utah. East Wendover is in Utah, West Wendover is in Nevada. However the entire town has decided to stay on mountain time since Nevada is in the Pacific time zone and Utah is in the Mountain time zone. So we all packed up, and got over to Gutsy Granny's by 6:45am. Said our tearful goodbyes and vowed to see each other again soon. And before we knew it, we were off traveling west bound on Interstate 80. Past the tree in the rock, Lincoln's head, and Vedauwoo, and into Utah.

We pulled into the Wendover KOA at 4pm. Of all the KOA's, it was the least attractive. But it's hard to be a lush oasis in the desert salt flats in the middle of nowhere. Floofy puppy got a lot of stickers in his paws and didn't care much for the place. Despite dad's worrying, we made excellent time. So we set up camp, and watched some Tom and Jerry cartoons and The Adventures of Tin Tin.

Back on the road the next morning again on west bound Interstate 80. Through Nevada, over the sierra mountains that still have snow in June, and into California.

There's just something about crossing into your home state. Even though you aren't quite home yet, there is a comfort in knowing you're almost there. Floofy puppy was over the roadtrip. He was ready to be home and see his "sister" Sura. Got into Sacramento and turned left onto I-5 south and down to Santa Nella and hung a right onto 152 and home. We got into town just after 9pm and passed the long line of cars heading east on 152 for the weekend.

We unpacked the essentials and perishables. It was good to be home. I thought my kitties would be so happy to see me, I was happy to see them. But they were not. They were mad and a bit hesitant. I think I left them for a bit too long. They warmed up to me eventually, and I got to say, there's nothing like your own bed. I had the best sleep in weeks.

And so, Tallulah Mae's first official road trip was over. We survived. We still like each other.

A few other things of note:
We saw a bald eagle in flight in California.
Tallulah Mae has a few quirks like turning off her AC when you need it the most.
A bird flew into Tallulah's window while parked in the KOA.
Invest in ear plugs when you have to sleep next to a freight train.
Packing for an RV trip is different than packing for a car road trip.

And Tallulah Mae got her first bath!

Summer Stay-cation: Day 1

Today was the first full day of my week long "stay-cation". I decided I needed a break from work since it was starting to get to me. I get vacation hours, so why not use them.

So, today I slept in to 12:30pm, and was woken up by my mom calling to see if I was FINALLY available for "Sunday Dinner". The answer, FINALLY was yes!

Got up, made bed, washed face, got dressed, told sister that mom and dad were on there way over to pick us up for "Sunday Dinner".

We went to Applebee's. I had a steak.

I watched the Wold Cup game between the U.S. and Portugal. Oh My God, what an awesome and heart pounding game! Just wow.

During said game I cleaned my bathroom. It was gross. Since the cleaning, a nephew washed the dogs in the tub and now it smells like wet dog in there and there is dog hair clogging the drain. Such is life.

I also cleaned out my closet of clothes I never wear or will never fit in again. Sad that I have come to the realization that I won't be "that thin" again, but again, such is life.

Surfed the internet for awhile, then mom texted and said to come on over for cards.

We sat out in mom and dads backyard for a bit and I pet my cat and brushed my cat and was told that my cat is now "out on the prowl" at night and does not come home till morning. Good thing that boy is fixed and chipped.

We played cards. I lost. We ate grilled cheese sandwiches and Cambell's soup. We talked, we laughed, we googled. (we think we found the Laotian refugee family my parents took in back when I was probably 3 years old.)

All in all, a good start to the "stay-cation". I will win for sure next time.

This is the serious post... Don't panic.

Feeling very unacomplished lately. I need to get my ass in gear and figure out what I really want. What I really want to do with my life and what I really want to do as a job/career/ need to make more money than I am now.

Being back in a food/drink service job getting minimum wage makes me really yearn for the days when I was an extremely underpaid archaeologist. I was living just above paycheck to paycheck because I was able to save up for big things like plane tickets and DVD's and was able to pay for my car getting serviced and not having to put it on a credit card and taking 6 months to pay off $200 dollars.

Now I am living paycheck to paycheck and bleeding. I say bleeding because it isn't working. I don't make enough to sustain myself, and that makes me sad and angry and feel real bad about myself. I am in my 30's, I have two college degrees, I'm single so I don't have to sustain anyone but myself and I'm not doing it. My savings is just about empty. One major thing like my car breaking down, or a root canal or something like that, and I will be in the red, like I can't pay my mortgage red. I am only able to pay my portion of the mortgage every month just barely. I don't pay for the cable or utilities or even food. So really, I am not making it.

Things need to change, and they need to change soon. Nephew #2 is graduating in June and sis will want to move within the next year or so. And then what? Move back to mommy and daddy's? I hope not.

I'm the one who put myself in this situation, and I need to pull my head out of the sand and start moving and facing the problems I've been avoiding and start making things happen. The coffee shop job I have now was only suppose to be temporary. It was to be temporary stability, so I could work toward the shop dream. I only wanted to stay there 6 months to a year tops. It has been 8 months now.

I want to open my own little shop. I want to live in a little house with lots of land. I want a riding lawn mower and cats and finally live by myself. I want to be financially secure so I can fix my cars windshield and all the little things I've let slide or go because I can't afford them.

So how does one do this? How do I get moving and make forward progress?


Baby steps and with help. I admit that now. I've talked and hopefully planted a seed in one of you. And after 3 months of being a slouch, I'm finally running again. So yeah, baby steps and help.

Block

Been needing to write, but haven’t been able to... write. Or more to the point what about. I think I should write something funny and light hearted, a la another blast from the past photo. But I don’t want to share too much. I kind of like anonymity or being mysterious. Bwahahahaha. Perhaps another tour of the music library, but I am in the process of replacing said library due to a bug or glitch or upgrade compatibility issue, and I’m only halfway through the “B’s”. So, an update on the job front? Not sure I should share that publicly... yet. I will only say, I am no longer in Victorville working. So, update on the me exercising? Are you all bored with that yet? Perhaps I will eventually do all of those.

In the meantime, while I sort all that out, last week I was house-sitting for my parents and got to spend some quality time with my cat, Quirk. This was our favorite hang out spot.

Just Peachy

My latest posts haven’t been all that fun or silly and I have been wanting to lighten the mood a bit, so I think we will get in the TARDIS and go to 1985, only not with Michael J. Fox, but with me and Peachy.

This is me and Peachy when we first got her. I’m 7, almost 8 and Peachy is about 3 months.

My mom found an ad in the paper for kittens. We were suppose to only get a kitten for me, but when we got there, there was another one. Peachy’s brother, Bud. So needless to say, I got Peachy and mom got Bud. I don’t exactly remember what happened to Bud. He may have run away or he died mysteriously, but he didn’t stay long with us. One thing I remember about Bud was his nasty smelling farts. They were so bad that even he would leave the room. But Peachy... well, she was... interesting. While she was still a young little fluffy kitten, she decided to climb up the ironing board that was standing up in the garage. It fell over, and she with it. She hit the concrete floor so hard she got a concussion. She couldn’t walk straight for two days afterward. And ever since then, she was never the same. I can only conclude that it was not just a simple concussion but brain damage as well. She would drool when you pet her. She would suck on your toes. Really! She never really grew out of her kitten phase in that she would knead (I know normal cats do this too) but she wouldn’t just knead, she tried to nurse, hence the sucking on your toes thing. She was sort of slow, I wouldn’t say stupid, but she was kind of like Forest Gump, only in cat form. She also became allergic to herself (her own fur). She would scratch herself so much that her fur would come out. We had to take her to the vet every year for shots so she wouldn’t do that. She also sneezed all the time. Which I also associate with her being allergic to herself.

She had so many things going against her. But she was such a loving cat. She was beautiful. And I think she had a pretty good life. I would get frustrated with her at times because I didn’t want to have wet spots all over my clothes from the drool and get sneezed on or have my toes sucked on, and I would push her away. But she always came back and I always gave her some loving.

I eventually had to make that hard decision in High School. She had gone into kidney failure and she was suffering. The Veterinarian asked if I wanted to see her before she gave her the last shot of her life. I said no. I couldn’t do it. It is one thing I regret. I didn’t say goodbye to her. I cried all the way home. I buried her up on the bank in the backyard where I thought she would like to be. As far as I know, she is still there. We had quite the pet cemetery back there. Mostly cats, a dog, many hamsters, a bird or two, and a rattlesnake. It wasn’t a pet and I dug him back up because my nephew wanted to see it and have the bones.

I have to say that every cat that I have had over the span of my life to date, has been weird in one way or another. We have had cats for as long as I can remember. There has almost always been at least one cat in our household. I have never had a “normal” cat. Pumpkin got run over in front of our house by our neighbor ( dad saved the day on that one, I never saw her), Turtle had half a tail and I still have scars on my chest from her. She came back from the vet after getting “fixed” a changed kitty. Tosca loved classical music, but started spraying like boy cats. Dot was so special, she was so friendly she spent time in the neighbors houses. She got shot by a BB gun. :( I’ve blogged about Jack here, I even made him a facebook fan page because he had human and feline friends that would come visit him. I now have a cat named Quirk, and he is quite quirky. He lives with my parents. But he too is... different. Here is a pic of Quirk.

News Update

First blog of 2012. Today I realized (well, I’ve known for a while now) I am not a dog person. I can tolerate them and live with them, but it isn’t by choice. There’s a new dog in town. Her name is Sura. She is a ridgeless Rhodesian Ridgeback. She is almost 5 months old and belongs to my sisters husband. I live with my sister and her two teenage sons with their little weiner dog Pepper. My sister’s husband only lives here part time. So Sura is here, part time. Well, when said husband goes to work, Sura stays with us because he works 3-4 12 hour shifts. Today (Monday) he worked, my sister went to work and my nephews went to school. Which left me with Pepper and Sura. Pepper doesn’t like Sura that much. And even before my sister and her husband got Sura, I said I didn’t want another dog. But apparently I don’t have a say in the matter. Well, lets just say taking care of Sura is like taking care of a colicky toddler. They won’t stop screaming, nothing you do is right, and you can’t take your eyes off of them, and by the end of the day, you want to pull your hair out. So when my sister came home to check on us, we decided that Sura will go to doggy day care on the days that her husband works. Hurray!

Now don’t get me wrong, Sura is a very pretty dog and she is pretty smart. She is only 4 and a half months old and can sit, stay, drop things she’s not suppose to put in her mouth, plays well with other dogs, and has figured out how to open doors. She will be a very well behaved dog when she grows up and be very sociable. I just don’t want to babysit her or take care of her. She isn’t my dog. I like cats. Cats are very low maintenance. You feed them and clean their litter box. That’s it. If they like you, they may curl up and sleep on your lap. They pretty much take care of themselves. They even give themselves baths. But sister is allergic to cats, and Pepper is a neurotic territorial ferret that tries to kill cats, so we can’t have them. *sad face*

Which brings me to another subject. If and when I get my soda/ice cream/ book store, I would like to have a shop cat. It would live at the store and hang out with the books and lounge on the comfy sofa’s and chairs and be loved by all the patrons.

And what’s this soda/ice cream/book store? Well, I am still unemployed (only been working a few days to a few weeks per month doing archaeology). I’ve realized that if I stay in archaeology, that is all it will be. So I’ve decided to pursue another dream. I have many, this shop is just one. Before the shop dream, I thought I’d go back to school and become a landscaper (yet another dream). I even applied to school, but when I went to register, the classes were all full with a 20 person wait list! I took it as a sign. That maybe that dream should be put on hold and to try a different one. So on a whim while sister and I were at the bank sorting out a checking account issue, we talked with a small business manager there. He made it sound like it could be done and helped us get started. A few days later he called and said we would qualify for a SB loan to purchase the building we were looking at for the shop. Some other stuff happened and we talked to some people and met some people willing to help us, and things are rolling along. Right now I am in the process of writing up our business plan to present to some potential investors. If all goes well, my new profession will be owner and proprietor of a small business, and landlord. By no means are we even close to making this happen yet. But we should know by as early as the end of the month whether or not this dream could become reality. I really hope we can do this. It is a lot of work, and the “work” I’m putting into it now is free labor. So I am still taking archaeology jobs when they are available to me, so that I can stay afloat a bit longer. If this dream can become a reality soon, then perhaps my financial future won’t look so gloomy, like it does at the moment.

My sister and nephews, and my mom seem to be on board, but dad is a bit uneasy. But I attribute that to his personality. He is by nature a worrier. And I can understand that, we are related and I also have this particular trait. This is a huge risk that may or may not work. We shall see, and I will try to keep you posted.

The loss of Jack the Cat

The loss of a great one

Today is a sad day indeed. Last night our most awesomest cat ever was hit by a car. Somehow he made it home and curled up as best he could in his basket and tried to sleep. My sister and I found him this morning. He didn’t look right, and he could hardly purr. Those of you who have met Jack know that the instant he sees you, he starts to purr. I pet him and lifted his tail and it went limp. I went in to tell sis that something was wrong. Something has happened to Jack. She came back out to the garage and I lifted him out of his basket and sat him on the floor. He wouldn’t or couldn't move his back legs, they just sort of slumped to the side of his lower body. I said, “we need to take him to the vet.” I got his carrier ready while sis called the vet and then the emergency vet hospital. Jack never complained when I placed him in the carrier, and never made a sound on the long journey to the emergency hospital.

He was seen immediately. Got some much needed pain killers and had x-rays done. Sure enough, he had been hit by a car. Most likely got his tail ran over and he kept going. Basically pulling the tail away from the rest of his body. He couldn't poop or pee on his own, and had lost the movement of his tail and majority of his hind legs. We decided it was best to put him down. He was a cat that loved being outside and with other cats and people. We just couldn’t see Jack confined to a box unable to walk or jump for the rest of his life. He was euthanized shortly after 3:30 pm. And we brought him back home and buried him in the front yard where he will be surrounded by roses.



Jack was a great cat. He came to us and claimed us as his own only 5 or so months ago. He was seven months old when he came to live with us. He purred like the devil. Even at the vet where he got his first check up. The doctor couldn’t listen to his heart because he purred so loud. He made friends easily. He had a little fan club of kindergartners who would call for him on their way to school in the mornings and he would come out and let them pet him. All the neighbors knew him. He was smart. We showed him how to use his little kitty door in the garage only once. He got it. He loved to play, but most of all he loved being loved. He loved getting his belly scratched. He’d run up to you and roll over on the ground in front of your feet so you had to either trip over him or stop and give him some love. He loved “loosing” his collars! We finally after the sixth loss, got him micro chipped. He much prefered roaming naked anyway.

He will be sorely missed. His life was much too short. You were one of the best, Jack. Simply, the best!