Jake is our cat. He is one of two cats that we acquired since moving to the Kansas City area 6 years ago. We adopted Jake almost immediately because our son Andrew missed Felix, who died of heart failure a month before our move. I had promised Andrew that we’d adopt a new cat once we’d settled in – of course, an 11 year old has no patience and his definition of settled in differed from ours. So on a rainy Sunday Alex, Andrew and I set off to meet a rescuer of cats who had about 26 of the poor creatures in a house awaiting adoption.
To the boys’ annoyance, I ignored the very cute kittens, preferring to focus on the two cats that were older and declawed. “No claws” on the front paws was the defining criteria because we don’t have the time or patience to teach a kitten not to claw the furniture. One of the two prospects was clearly hostile, so we crossed her off the list. This left Jacob, a very shy gray and white cat who had to be fished out from under a sofa and placed near me. As I talked with the cat rescue lady, he slowly inched toward me. I could tell he had potential – he was very tentatively heading in the direction of affection, and readily took to my petting him. So despite the pleas for a cute kitten we put Jacob in the carrier we had brought with us. He cried all the way home and puked in the carrier, a habit he never lost, much to our dismay.
He spent his first two weeks with us under the bed in the spare bedroom. Once he realized there was no danger, he came out and sat on my lap for short periods, running off at my slightest shift of position or noise. As time went on he’d stay on my lap for longer and longer periods of time and proved to be affectionate with all the members of our household. We never came up with another name for him, so Jake it was.
Jake was never a “fun” cat -didn’t like to play, was skittish, and threw up a lot. But what affection! He learned to greet not only us but our friends, and would sit on laps for long periods of time purring loudly. As the years went by, he’d not move even for the vacuum cleaner, which I later realized was because he was losing his hearing. A second cat, Cecil, joined our family, but that’s a story for another day. It took a year for them to begin to hang out with each other, and I can’t say they were ever friends, but they would sleep on the guest bed together. Jake was always interested in greeting Cecil when he returned from his outdoor adventures, living Cecil’s exploits vicariously through the scents he brought back with him.
We never really knew how old Jake was. We were told he was 2- 1/2 years old at the time of adoption, but he always acted like an old man, ignoring invitations to play. When he began to lose weight this spring I attributed it to old age. I went out of town for a week in June, and learned during phone calls that his weight was dropping quickly. Upon my return we scheduled him for a visit to the vet. He was diagnosed with chronic kidney failure, and we put him on a prescription diet. We also learned that Jake is a girl – and yes, this was the same vet we’ve been going to each year. None of us ever bothered to check the evidence on a cat named Jacob!
We’ve reached the point where Jake has stopped eating, and she has chosen a spot under our bed to spend her final days. She is extremely weak and mostly sleeps. She doesn’t want to be touched or handled, and Cecil will sniff her from a distance but won’t go close. He clearly knows she’s very sick and is respecting her wishes. I’ve considered taking her to the vet, but she doesn’t appear to be in pain and we don’t put people down, so I prefer to let her decline in comfort and peace. She has always HATED rides to the vet – pukes every time from fear and anxiety. There’s no reason to add stress at the end of her life. When Felix was ill, I took him to the pet hospital and left him to be cared for, and he died overnight without any of us having said goodbye – he had been perfectly healthy and normal the day before, and we thought medicine would clear the fluid that the vet detected in his lungs. I was devastated when the vet called early the next morning to tell me Felix had passed away during the night, and I regretted not being with him at the end, and imagined him in a crate in a strange place with unfamiliar scents and noises, passing away anonymously during the night.
This is my tribute to Jake. She was not the perfect cat – I really didn’t like cleaning up hairballs several times a week. But she was an affectionate member of the family, giving each of us attention and love, and it was gratifying to see how our love and care allowed her to emerge from her scared shell (we have no idea what her earlier life experiences were but they can’t have been good) and to watch her blossom into a loving, happy family member who had the run of the house. She looks peaceful under the bed, curled up on a blanket, a bowl of water nearby.
It’s hard for me to sleep knowing she’s just beneath me, her days nearing their end.
Here’s to Jake, who has been part of our family for six years. We’ll put her in a plot in the back with a plant to mark her resting place. She’ll be in our hearts and minds for a long time to come.
