J is for Jake…..


 

Jake was the beloved tabby cat that I lost a week before my Mother died.  After returning from  nursing my mum for three weeks I got home and found that it was time for that trip to the vet.

He was a special cat,  he often blended into the background amongst cuter brother and sisters.  He could be jealous and would often knock my hand away from one of my other cats to get my full attention.  When he curled up on my pillow at night I would get frustrated at him but he persisted until he got the place he wanted.

He had a love hate relationship with his sister Smudge but was the one to pine for her after she was run over and killed.  I made the choice then to get three kittens.  (I went for two and somehow ended up with the third!).  Orlando the new boy kitten kept him on his toes, Jake was top cat, the one in charge and they would swipe at each other or compete for the best spot nearest the heat vent.

 

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Jake had a heart condition and I was lucky to have him for the 14 years that I did.   Especially one year, he became ill with pneumonia.  It was a Bank Holiday weekend and the vet told me that with his history that it was only a matter of time for him but if I wanted he would come out.

That night I left the heating on all night, Jake was camped out in front of the heat vent and by his side was  his sister Piglet.  She curled up with him as though knowing that it could be the last time we had him.   He couldn’t keep food down but I was able to feed him some rice pudding.

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When he recovered every time I opened a tin of rice pudding he was by my side demanding his portion.

.I knew that when I lost him it would only be a matter of time before Piglet went too.  She declined fast and in April she died in my arms.  I grieved more for Piglet then I did Jake and although I  feel guilty about it I knew that I’d been preparing myself to lose him for the last two years of his life plus his death was soon superseded by that of my mother’s.  But I know I still miss him.

I still have my three ‘kitten’s’. They are coming up to 9 years old now and I’m clinging on to them as much as I can considering my present personal circumstances.  They are happy and healthy, and more importantly they still love me.

 

 

 

 

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