We received him as a gift for our wedding from Tyler's mom. One of her coworkers had found him and a sibling in a rockpit.... he was our rockpit kitty. He looked awful... crusty runny eyes, and a bloated gut... turned out pretty cute though!
We brought him to North Carolina from Oregon. He traveled from there back to Oregon for an extended visit, while we set up home in Montana. Then he came to live with us there. He made the drive down with us from Montana to Texas, by way of Arizona. This kitty was a traveler... and a pretty good one too (by seeing his picture above, he liked the dashboard :) )
But for some reason, he had a death wish. He refused to be solely an inside kitty, and would escape to the great outdoors any chance he got... and he would lounge in the road and slowly saunter out of it when a car came by.... we knew this could be a problem. But we also believed that with a speed limit of 20mph, and assuming people paid attention, he would be safe.
Tyler and the kids were outside, as usual on our nights here in Texas, and Colton runs inside and says MOM! come outside!
I knew from his voice that something had happened, and I just prayed my kids were all safe (and Tyler too).
When I came outside with Soren, Tyler had Kellen corralled, and he said sadly that Jack had been hit while shaking his head, so I knew he wasn't going to make it. A couple cars were stopped in the road, but I didn't care. I started crying.
For a cat.
A man said "I'm sorry" and walked back to his car.
I assumed that he was the one that hit him... he was the only one that said he was sorry.
But Tyler later informed me that a woman had been the one... and she said nothing to Tyler or I.
Come on?!
Seriously? You accidentally kill a family's cat... a family that pretty much was right there and saw what happened, and you just continue on?
I was pretty upset about this. My kids saw there beloved cat laying on the grass, taking his last breaths. We said nice things about him and all took turns petting him.
Colton was the only one of the kids that seemed to understand the finality of it all.
But the next day, Ayla looked at me sadly and said, "Mommy, I didn't get to pet Jack..."
I started crying, again.
For a cat. For my girl who didn't get to let go.
Kellen stood at the window and pointed outside and kept saying "Jack, Jack."
I cried. Again.
For a cat. For my kids first experience in death.
Even a week later, I look at the spots he frequented.
Above the fridge to get away from the kids.
On top of the laundry hamper.
On the window sills.
Curled up on the baby blanket.
In a spot of sun to warm his soft fur.
I miss him. I wish I would have pet him more, when he needed loving, instead of pushing him off of my lap. But I absolutely do not miss him trying to lick my face! I hated that.
It is always amazing how loosing something/someone you love makes you love more; harder.
You are missed, Jack. And loved.
I am crying again.
For a cat.
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