A little over 5 years ago, Tim took me to the humane society to pick up the best Christmas present ever. He was a blue eyed Siamese, Balinese mix named Fluffy....and that was a stupid name. So, we brought him home and named him Jack.
Over those five years, there were countless times that I laughed until I cried at the things he did, the foods he ate and the places he would hide. He was always good for a snuggle and a kitten hug and big purrs. He liked to beg for my food and sometimes, just take it out of my hand when he felt he needed to. He loved to escape and hide under the porch and scratch himself on the bush in the front yard. He loved to torment Lily Belle. He loved to play with his favorite toy Fish. He would often sprint from room to room to room before sliding across the tile in the kitchen right into the food mat...consequently spilling all the food. When Tim would go on hunting trips, Jack never left my side. He slept in front of the bedroom door and would wait by the back door for Tim to get home. Often times, even before we got a king sized bed, we would wake up to find Jack stretched out, under the covers, with his head on a pillow in between the two of us. If he wasn't sleeping there, he was sleeping on my pillow, wrapped around my head or stretched out on Tim's back with his paws on Tim's shoulders. He loved our fireplace insert in our entertainment center. He spent cold nights lying in front of it and spent the days trying to figure out how to get the cat inside of it out...(his reflection...) He was patient and funny and loving and affectionate.
Then, he got sick.
I'll spare you the details, but to the very last day, he was still affectionate and loving and snuggly, even if he didn't feel good.
Taking my son to the vet that very last time was the hardest thing that I have ever done. Ever. And I've done a lot of hard things.
I miss him every day. I miss seeing him run to the door when I get home. I miss having him jump on my lap at the dinner table. I miss him standing on the counter trying to get into the crockpot. I miss him sitting in between the shower curtains. I miss him. I know that he's sitting in Heaven with my Grammy being scratched and coddled and waiting for me to get there so that he can run to the door to meet me, but it doesn't make it any easier.
I never thought that a simple trip to the humane society could change my life.
We went there to rescue him...
And it turned out that Jack rescued me.
love you forever, little cat boy.