Sometimes I still swear I seem him out of the corner of my eye, but my head knows that 6 months have now gone by since I lost my best friend.
Jazz was more of a furry person than an animal. He was the most amazing cat and I loved him more than I thought was ever possible. He was a gift from my mother, who was an avid cat lover. When she died when I was 9 years old, I felt like Jazz was my connection to her since she loved him so much. He waited in the picture window for months after her death, waiting for her to come. I spent many nights curled up with him, soaking his fur with my tears. Jazz never left my side when I was sad. Even if was clinging on to him for hours, he wouldn't fight me. As I grew up, I told him all my secrets as he sat with me, listening patiently. He was a constant in my fairly unstable, unpredictable life. I always knew I could come home to him, pick him up, and forget about my worries with the sound of his purring. He watch my grow from a child, to an adolescent, and finally to a young adult.
I used to joke that the size of his ego was bigger than him. As soon as I came home he would come running to the door, stop short, and then causally walk up to me, as if to say, "Oh, look at that, your home. I didn't even notice." He would also meow and scratch at my bedroom door if it was closed. When I opened it, he would play it off and causally walk in after a minute.
Jazz never liked any of my boyfriend's. He never hissed, or scratched... but he would give them that evil glare. If I was sitting next to them, Jazz would jump up and sit in the middle. My dad would joke that Jazz was a stricter chaperon than he was. My dad would also complain if I went away for a couple of days because Jazz would "yell" at him until I came home.
Every night he would lay on my chest and put his head on top of my face. He would have to stay like that for at least 10 minutes. After that, he would sleep on my pillow, watching over me the entire night. When I had surgery on my chest a couple years ago, he knew instinctively that he couldn't jump on me. He stayed at my side until I was better.
Jazz battled renal failure for nearly a year. When the Vet called me to tell me that his blood results showed that he was off the charts and his kidneys had shut down, I collapsed on the floor crying. I felt like I had been hit with a truck. I knew he wasn't doing well since he had lost so much weight, but I thought I would have him forever... or at least another year. I spent my time once again soaking his fur with my tears. Within 3 days I had to put him down since he wasn't eating and going down fast. I didn't want to. It was the hardest decision I ever had to make, but at the same time I knew I had to be strong for him. He looked after me for 14 years, and I had to do the same.
6 months ago today, I looked up at him and asked him, "Do you want the pain to stop? Are you ready to go be with my mom?" ...and he looked me in the eyes and meowed. Jazz let me know it was time. I held him tightly in the car as my boyfriend drove. I held it together until they asked me to sign the paper giving permission to put him down. I held him close as they gave him the needles, telling him how much I loved him and that he would always be my heart. A part of me died with him, as well as one of the few remaining connections to my mother.
Jazz never liked it when I was upset. 5 days after he passed, he sent me a 3 week old kitten named Teddy my way. Teddy almost completely distracted me from my pain by refocusing all my energy on him. I couldn't save Jazz, but I could save Teddy. As the little kitten grew and became healthy, I felt like I redeemed myself and I could be happy again.
This has become a lot longer than I had thought it would be... but it all just spilled out when I noticed the date and walked by his picture. In time, I will spread his ashes over my mother's grave.... but 6 months is still too soon to let go of my heart.
Jazz, my angel.
Jazz was more of a furry person than an animal. He was the most amazing cat and I loved him more than I thought was ever possible. He was a gift from my mother, who was an avid cat lover. When she died when I was 9 years old, I felt like Jazz was my connection to her since she loved him so much. He waited in the picture window for months after her death, waiting for her to come. I spent many nights curled up with him, soaking his fur with my tears. Jazz never left my side when I was sad. Even if was clinging on to him for hours, he wouldn't fight me. As I grew up, I told him all my secrets as he sat with me, listening patiently. He was a constant in my fairly unstable, unpredictable life. I always knew I could come home to him, pick him up, and forget about my worries with the sound of his purring. He watch my grow from a child, to an adolescent, and finally to a young adult.
I used to joke that the size of his ego was bigger than him. As soon as I came home he would come running to the door, stop short, and then causally walk up to me, as if to say, "Oh, look at that, your home. I didn't even notice." He would also meow and scratch at my bedroom door if it was closed. When I opened it, he would play it off and causally walk in after a minute.
Jazz never liked any of my boyfriend's. He never hissed, or scratched... but he would give them that evil glare. If I was sitting next to them, Jazz would jump up and sit in the middle. My dad would joke that Jazz was a stricter chaperon than he was. My dad would also complain if I went away for a couple of days because Jazz would "yell" at him until I came home.
Every night he would lay on my chest and put his head on top of my face. He would have to stay like that for at least 10 minutes. After that, he would sleep on my pillow, watching over me the entire night. When I had surgery on my chest a couple years ago, he knew instinctively that he couldn't jump on me. He stayed at my side until I was better.
Jazz battled renal failure for nearly a year. When the Vet called me to tell me that his blood results showed that he was off the charts and his kidneys had shut down, I collapsed on the floor crying. I felt like I had been hit with a truck. I knew he wasn't doing well since he had lost so much weight, but I thought I would have him forever... or at least another year. I spent my time once again soaking his fur with my tears. Within 3 days I had to put him down since he wasn't eating and going down fast. I didn't want to. It was the hardest decision I ever had to make, but at the same time I knew I had to be strong for him. He looked after me for 14 years, and I had to do the same.
6 months ago today, I looked up at him and asked him, "Do you want the pain to stop? Are you ready to go be with my mom?" ...and he looked me in the eyes and meowed. Jazz let me know it was time. I held him tightly in the car as my boyfriend drove. I held it together until they asked me to sign the paper giving permission to put him down. I held him close as they gave him the needles, telling him how much I loved him and that he would always be my heart. A part of me died with him, as well as one of the few remaining connections to my mother.
Jazz never liked it when I was upset. 5 days after he passed, he sent me a 3 week old kitten named Teddy my way. Teddy almost completely distracted me from my pain by refocusing all my energy on him. I couldn't save Jazz, but I could save Teddy. As the little kitten grew and became healthy, I felt like I redeemed myself and I could be happy again.
This has become a lot longer than I had thought it would be... but it all just spilled out when I noticed the date and walked by his picture. In time, I will spread his ashes over my mother's grave.... but 6 months is still too soon to let go of my heart.
Jazz, my angel.
