Caturday-- Farewell, My Friend

Jake: 1996-2016

As this post goes live, Jake and I should be at the vet's for his final journey.

It was a little before 8AM on his last day that I took this shot. Of the two-hundred or so that I've uploaded and the thousand-plus I've taken of him, this'll likely be the last one.

Jake was in a friend's yard in 2004, clearly hungry and looking a little thin (at 15lbs). I took a cup of dry food out and poured it on the patio, then moved away six feet. He took a couple bites of the food, then came over to be petted. He alternated back and forth until the food was gone.

Here he is back then at his fighting weight of 19-20lbs:

I adopted him, of course. Over time, he lost all of his teeth, ending up toothless seven years ago.

It took a little while for him to adjust to living with my other cats, George and Gracie. Gracie had no problem putting Jake in his place. One time, when he was sleeping where she wanted to be, she just flopped down on top of him. Jake squirmed out, bapped her to let her know that he wasn't pleased, and found a new place to sleep.

Jake was good with people and even with small children. People who didn't normally like cats loved him. When it came to people, he was almost a dog in a cat suit. If you would scratch him, he was your friend. His favorite toys were the fuzzy worms known as squirmles (the orange one was his favorite). He loved looking out the window. He had the longest purr cycle; if you stopped petting him, he'd continue purring for five or six minutes. I know that, because I timed him. Even to the end, he was like that.

After the other two cats died four years ago, I promised Jake that he'd be an only cat. And he has been. His health began to turn poor last year and it got worse last January. I feared that was the end, but he hung on. Each week was a gift. That he made it through February and March felt like a blessing. Still, I knew that his health was declining. He wasn't eating very much and he continued to lose weight.

Over the last few days, I've given him canned tuna and salmon with his regular dinner, which were his favorite things to eat. I'd bring the bowl to him so he could sniff it and he'd excitedly follow me back to his feeding station. But he'd only eat a few bites.

This was his last lunch:

Matters not if all he wanted was a bite or two.

To the end, Jake maintained his good humor. He was a happy cat. He was easy to medicate and never took any of it personally.

The cancer diagnosis was the icing on a lousy cake. And so the hard thing of being a pet owner must be done.

Farewell, my friend. I will miss you more than I can ever express.