Your time with us was too short....Jett was
my first cat. I met him when I was 38 and he was a 2 month old kitten. Jett and
I formed a special bond over the next 4 years. My then fiance Lisa has had
feline friends all her life. I've had dogs. When we married I became a cat
lover too, but not because of Lisa. It was because of Jett. He was a
neighborhood stray that warmed up to us both instantly.As soon as one of us would come home, he
would come over and hang out .We moved into our new home and brought Jett with us. Used to living
the hardscrabble life of a stray, he had trouble getting used to being an
indoor cat in a new setting. Soon we adopted Lucy (a Tuxedo kitten) so Jett
would have a playmate. But he still wanted to be an outdoor cat, crying at the
door at all hours begging to go outside. After a year or so we had him
micro-chipped and vaccinated for the outdoors. His first night back on the
outside, he vanished and had us both worried sick. We had posters all around
the neighborhood and had talked to everyone on the block. He came home after 3
days as if nothing happened. I guess he was just surveying the neighborhood,
and was never gone for more than 24 hours again.
He loved
the outdoors and was an accomplished hunter. He frequently brought to our front
porch a mouse or chipmunk he'd caught in HIS yard but he never went far because
he always came running when he saw me pulling in the driveway. He'd follow me
around the house until I sat down and then jump into my lap; first slamming his
head into my chin four or five times before relaxing into my lap for a rest. It
was a welcome evening routine that made all the days stress disperse.
Jett
always came to me when I called him and was very social in that he'd introduce
himself to visitors in our home by scent marking them and often hopping into
their laps in hopes of some petting. He was a rascal though. He wasn't allowed
on the couch or the bed, but if you weren't looking, he'd sneak up there and
have a nap. He was an
outdoor cat that was always inside when we were, but he'd get bored after too
long inside and want to go out. Meow I
want in. No, Meow, I want out. Rascal.
He died late
Saturday evening coming back from visiting his girlfriend (a fluffy white cat)
across the street. I imagine he'd used up the other eight lives crossing that
street over the last 3 years. A black cat on a black street on a black night
didn't have a chance.
His sister Lucy knows he's gone and she misses him too. She stopped eating
her breakfast mid-bowl this morning and started wandering around the house
crying. They used to eat breakfast together (he always let her have the first
bite) and she wasn't used to eating alone.
Jett was
my first cat, and he will be missed by all that knew him (dog and cat lovers
alike). He will not be replaced in our hearts. Ever. We love you buddy.