For My Jack,
I remember getting him at the mall, it was the end of April, at the pet store, he was the only kitten left. He was cute, and small, and had his little bent nose. I took him home, were it took a very long time for him and Tiger to get along.
Tiger and him would hiss at each other, then tiger started to like him, and insisted that he be clean all the time, and needed to be cleaned whether he wanted to be cleaned or not, she would hold him in her arms and kick him with her back feet if he ever fought to get out of her grasp.
He was so small; he would sleep inside a baseball cap, now he can sleep on a base ball cap and cover it completely.
He would go into any open dresser drawer and want you to close it so he could sleep, and I never could bring a suitcase out without him jumping into it and wanting you to close it up on him. I did zip up the suitcase up one day while he was in it, and opened it again right away and he would look at you and meow like he wanted it closed,
because he was sleeping.
When I lived in Fort Mac Murray he would love to play in the park outside the apartment building, he would chase bugs or just enjoy the sun. In Moose Jaw Wayne stepped on his the side of his stomach once and he bit Wayne’s toe, and then ran away in terror, cause he knew what he did was bad, but there was Wayne chasing him down from under the display, re assuring Jack that it was alright and that Wayne was wrong for stepping on him.
He would jump on a chair, and normal cats would leave the chair with just a nudge, but not Jack, you either had to lift him off of it, or put the chair perpendicular to have him fall off of it, and he would look at you with such disdain, like how dare you move him from his chair. He loved to play fetch with balled up cigarette tinfoil, and if he heard someone open a new pack, he would meow at you expectantly, because he knew you had new balls for him to play with.
He loved to play with the tabs from 4 liter containers of milk.
He was always a big cat, and when he was fixed I called him my perpetual prepubescent, because he never knew what puberty was like, and all those hormones that went with it.
He would look at me with his big gold eyes, and I always knew he loved me, he would sleep at the head of the bed, and he had to learn that sleeping on my face
was a bad thing.
I will miss those big gold eyes of his looking up at me, they were so expressive, I knew what he was thinking, about how dare I move him from his spot, or how he wanted to be loved. He loved to lay on my stomach and be petted, and I had to train him to jump on the end of the couch first, then move to my stomach, and not to jump on my stomach first.
He had a knack of injuring guys if he sat on their laps, and I had to warn guys that if he sat on your lap be careful because he would jump off and put pressure on the guys groin, and he hurt a few guys doing that.
And during the days of my deepest darkest depression, he always loved me, he always needed me, and he would show it, he always wanted to sit on my lap and just be with me.
Good bye my sweet baby boy,
| Jack |
| 15, Feb 2009 |
| Jodi Dyck |