Jiji was a shelter rescue.
After my younger (and only) brother died of cancer in 1992
decided that having a cat would help me
shake my lingering depression.
I went to the shelter
since I had always known
that I would have a rescued cat.
In a room full of cages Jiji was the only older cat.
There were several kittens
some of which tried to reach out and
snag my arm as I went past.
They were all adorable
but there was something special about Jiji.
The tag on her door had a “hold date”
after which they would have her put down.
The date was 3 days from that date.
I slipped my fingers in between the bars and called her over.
She immediately ran over and
bumped her head into my fingers.
I knew immediately she would be my choice.
She was with me when I would sit and cry over my brother’s death.
It didn’t matter where she was — the moment she heard a sob
she would come running.
Gently she would put a paw on my arm or
leg to get my attention
then curl up in my lap until I was over my cry
purring until she drooled.
She survived with me through an abusive boyfriend
a rescue named Frankie
another rescue named Emma
and a wonderful husband
(who brought three new cats into her life)
and we survived with her through three bouts of hepatitis
and one thyroid tumor.
After her radiation treatment we called her
“The Glow-in-the-dark Cat.”
She could be stubborn and had a thing against carpets.
I can’t tell you how many times I scrubbed cat pee out of carpets.
But whenever I needed her whenever I felt depressed
she would always be there —
with her gentle paw and the deep drooling purr.
Today my husband was removing the carpets that she had used
as her personal scratching pad from the stairwell
when Jiji brushed past him and rubbed against him.
She leapt from the stairs to the floor
started into the kitchen and collapsed.
She was dead instantly.
My husband was there in less than a minute
and she was gone.
Jiji you will be missed you ornery little beast.
I lived with you for almost ten years
and you had a good 14 or so here on this earth.
I’m sorry that your first owners didn’t keep you
but I’m so glad you found your way into my life.
You were worth every carpet I had to scrub.
I can never ever thank you enough.
And when it’s my turn to pass on
I expect that you will be there waiting for me
with a gentle paw and a purr to welcome me to heaven.
Blessed be Jiji.
Kathy
| Jiji |
| Kathy Anderson |