Last Tuesday, my family said goodbye to one of our members. Jolie, our cat for the past 16+ years, had to be put down.
November 1, 1996. I was five years old. However, the memory is fairly clear.
I think all four of us kids went with my mom to the animal shelter; I don't remember my dad going with. There, curled up in the back of the cage with one of her brothers, was a five week old kitten. She was small enough to fit into the palm of Mom's hand. Unlike her brothers, both of whom were orange tabbies, she was a pastel tortie, gray and cream. Mom said she had never seen a cat with her particular coloring.
We all had our various favorites; however, Mom had the final say. And Mom chose her.
We named her Jolie, the French word for "pretty." Debbi and Pam were taking French at the time, and it seemed fitting. I, who wanted to name her Pretty, was satisfied.
Thus began the 16 years in which she was a part of our family.
She grew a lot from the tiny kitten who could fit in Mom's hand. She weighed 15 pounds for most of her life; however, much of that was simply due to the fact that she was a big cat, tall and solidly built. However, since she was so young when we got her, she was weaned too early and never lost the urge to suck on one of our fingers when she was in a certain mood. Especially at the beginning, I was her favorite for this because I had the smallest fingers.
She was both the beggar and the hunter. Almost every meal, Jolie would be sitting somewhere near the table just in case. If that meal included meat, she would put her paws up on our chairs and make sure we knew she was available for handouts. She was also the one that would leave us "presents" on the garage mat. We always knew when a mouse or lizard had gotten into our garage, because Jolie would be on the prowl. She had a stomach of iron, eating everything from Mom's philodendron, which was poisonous, to black widow spiders. Never hurt her.
Jolie loved Christmas. Largely because she loved to sleep underneath the Christmas tree. Each year the presents would slowly push her out; then on Christmas Eve, when we opened our gifts, she would find her way back under the tree during the celebration.
We grew up together. One by one each of us kids went off to college, and one by one she would be mad at us when we returned for Christmas break. She always became miffed when she saw a suitcase. If the litterbox was placed in the laundry room, she would be even more upset because she knew that meant everybody was leaving for a trip and leaving her alone with Mittens.
I'm not sure she ever completely forgave us for bringing Mittens home. For the first several weeks, she wouldn't let the poor kitten anywhere near her. Over time, she came to accept the new family member, but I still think she wondered what we had been thinking at times. At first, when Mittens was still too small to jump that high on her own, Jolie would escape by sleeping in the rocking chair. Then, after Mittens had grown some, it was the ledge above our stairway. Once Mittens figured out that one, it was a lost cause. Jolie was stuck with her. However, on colder nights, we would find them curled up together.
More recently, Jolie began to show her age. It reached the point where she had to decide if it was worth the effort to jump up onto a bed or chair. Sometimes it was; sometimes it wasn't. Even if it was worth the effort, she would more scramble up than jump. Other times, she would just wait for one of us humans to have pity on her, pick her up, and put her up where she wanted to go.
February 12, 2013. We knew it was coming. Jolie was showing her age more and more, and at the end of Christmas break, I said my goodbyes. She had begun her illness and was quickly loosing weight. I knew she probably wouldn't last until Spring break. However, that doesn't make it any easier.
I received Mom's message shortly after math. Jolie had stopped eating and wasn't getting any better. In fact, she was getting worse. Dad had taken her to the vet to be put to sleep. Mom said it was one of the hardest decisions she ever had to make.
I lost it. After 16 years, I couldn't believe she was actually gone. I'm not sure it will fully sink in until I go home and she's not there. I only have scattered memories of what it was like before she was a part of our home.
I'm so grateful for understanding friends. For the rest of that day, I couldn't even be asked how I was doing without dissolving into tears. Needless to say, I am thankful that no one came to have their paper checked at work that evening.
It's still hard. I'll be fine for a while, then something will remind me about her. On one hand, it seems like such a minor thing compared with what some other people are facing, and yet it still hurts. According to my mom, Mittens is wandering around the house a couple times each day. We're fairly certain she's looking for Jolie.
I'm going to miss her. A lot.
November 1, 1996. I was five years old. However, the memory is fairly clear.
I think all four of us kids went with my mom to the animal shelter; I don't remember my dad going with. There, curled up in the back of the cage with one of her brothers, was a five week old kitten. She was small enough to fit into the palm of Mom's hand. Unlike her brothers, both of whom were orange tabbies, she was a pastel tortie, gray and cream. Mom said she had never seen a cat with her particular coloring.
We all had our various favorites; however, Mom had the final say. And Mom chose her.
We named her Jolie, the French word for "pretty." Debbi and Pam were taking French at the time, and it seemed fitting. I, who wanted to name her Pretty, was satisfied.
Thus began the 16 years in which she was a part of our family.
She grew a lot from the tiny kitten who could fit in Mom's hand. She weighed 15 pounds for most of her life; however, much of that was simply due to the fact that she was a big cat, tall and solidly built. However, since she was so young when we got her, she was weaned too early and never lost the urge to suck on one of our fingers when she was in a certain mood. Especially at the beginning, I was her favorite for this because I had the smallest fingers.
She was both the beggar and the hunter. Almost every meal, Jolie would be sitting somewhere near the table just in case. If that meal included meat, she would put her paws up on our chairs and make sure we knew she was available for handouts. She was also the one that would leave us "presents" on the garage mat. We always knew when a mouse or lizard had gotten into our garage, because Jolie would be on the prowl. She had a stomach of iron, eating everything from Mom's philodendron, which was poisonous, to black widow spiders. Never hurt her.
Jolie loved Christmas. Largely because she loved to sleep underneath the Christmas tree. Each year the presents would slowly push her out; then on Christmas Eve, when we opened our gifts, she would find her way back under the tree during the celebration.
We grew up together. One by one each of us kids went off to college, and one by one she would be mad at us when we returned for Christmas break. She always became miffed when she saw a suitcase. If the litterbox was placed in the laundry room, she would be even more upset because she knew that meant everybody was leaving for a trip and leaving her alone with Mittens.
I'm not sure she ever completely forgave us for bringing Mittens home. For the first several weeks, she wouldn't let the poor kitten anywhere near her. Over time, she came to accept the new family member, but I still think she wondered what we had been thinking at times. At first, when Mittens was still too small to jump that high on her own, Jolie would escape by sleeping in the rocking chair. Then, after Mittens had grown some, it was the ledge above our stairway. Once Mittens figured out that one, it was a lost cause. Jolie was stuck with her. However, on colder nights, we would find them curled up together.
More recently, Jolie began to show her age. It reached the point where she had to decide if it was worth the effort to jump up onto a bed or chair. Sometimes it was; sometimes it wasn't. Even if it was worth the effort, she would more scramble up than jump. Other times, she would just wait for one of us humans to have pity on her, pick her up, and put her up where she wanted to go.
February 12, 2013. We knew it was coming. Jolie was showing her age more and more, and at the end of Christmas break, I said my goodbyes. She had begun her illness and was quickly loosing weight. I knew she probably wouldn't last until Spring break. However, that doesn't make it any easier.
I received Mom's message shortly after math. Jolie had stopped eating and wasn't getting any better. In fact, she was getting worse. Dad had taken her to the vet to be put to sleep. Mom said it was one of the hardest decisions she ever had to make.
I lost it. After 16 years, I couldn't believe she was actually gone. I'm not sure it will fully sink in until I go home and she's not there. I only have scattered memories of what it was like before she was a part of our home.
I'm so grateful for understanding friends. For the rest of that day, I couldn't even be asked how I was doing without dissolving into tears. Needless to say, I am thankful that no one came to have their paper checked at work that evening.
It's still hard. I'll be fine for a while, then something will remind me about her. On one hand, it seems like such a minor thing compared with what some other people are facing, and yet it still hurts. According to my mom, Mittens is wandering around the house a couple times each day. We're fairly certain she's looking for Jolie.
I'm going to miss her. A lot.
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