The paw print

The Dude is still on vacation time and likely will be all week. So I sent him on an errand to the vet clinic to retrieve Jerry's ashes, which had just recently arrived. I was expecting a small cardboard box with a plastic bag. I was going to scatter them somewhere or give them to my brother to scatter.

When I opened the box, which was a light blue, it contained an urn. The urn was stoney and sealed with a stiff ribbon around the neck holding a sold bronzy heart with "Jerry" engraved across it. It's small, beautiful and I shed tears when I held it. I didn't think it would mean so much to me to have his ashes in such a sweet little urn with his name on it.

But that wasn't all that was in the box. Inside was a silky navy drawstring bag. I opened it up and found a flat oval terracotta imprint of Jerry's paw. That did it. If I was moved by the urn, I was weeping over the paw print. The Dude and I held it and discussed ways to keep it safe and yet somewhere we could see it. We'll think of something soon.

I don't regret my choice to cremate him, not at all. I thought it was a little expensive, but didn't want to possibly ever regret not doing it so I shrugged off the cost and forgot about it. Now I see why it was so much. But I know I'll do it again when it's Smokey's time, hopefully a really long time from now. I can see the urn from here. It gives me a little feeling of peace knowing there's something of my little Jerry still here with me. And that damn paw print. God almighty. My heart broke in a sweet way over seeing that.

Emotions are in focus around these parts lately. We started our chickflickathon yesterday with The Notebook, and today was When Harry Met Sally. Since the Dude has already seen Shakespeare in Love, we're subbing in The Piano. It really is a lovely way to end an evening with a movie that makes you feel something.

Smokey's Perspective

Life as a house cat continues, if house cats could play Nintendo Wii. I've been wasting away my life in front of Harvest Moon and vegetating. I look like hell, the weather is too damn cold to be out in anyway, and I'm sleeping in guilt-free. I love vacation. I probably would hate myself and my life if this were my daily routine, but it being a temporary reprieve from work, it's totally rocking my socks.

The Dude is being remarkably cool with my monopolization of the TV. Which is good, because I'm pretty deeply entrenched in HM addiction right now and there's no stopping me.

I've been observing Smokey lately and he's been taking over a number of Jerry's little quirks and behaviours. One is sleeping under the covers. The Dude always let him sleep beside him under the sheets at night, and now Smokey seems to think that with Jerry gone, this is a privilege he must partake in. It kind of bums me out because this means less Smokey time at night. But I'm getting a little better sleep. Such a tough call between sleep and Smokey cuddles.

At our New Years party (more of a light gathering) he didn't pull out the stops like Jerry, though. He did grace us with his disdainful indifference periodically through the night, but was nothing the host Jerry used to be, who would travel lap to lap to accept whatever love he felt he had coming to him. It made me miss my little guy. He was a real warm kitty.

Smokey's also been burying his litter leavings less and less. Jerry used to be like that, he buried nothing, and sweet merciful hell on a stick, his shite stank. This may sound obvious, but no. You have no idea. It was uber rank, like a rotten egg took a dump in a sulfur mine. I don't know how such an adorable little kitty made something so foul. And of course this was his way of informing all of us that it was his house and we just lived there. Smokey now seems to believe this is true of him. At least his leavings aren't so objectionable. Not in comparison anyway.

So all in all I think he's adjusted to Jerry's absence. He has a new position in the house of top cat and while I think he still gets lonely, I've noticed he seems to enjoy his heightened status. He certainly likes not having to wait to eat until Jerry is done. Must be nice to be a cat in times like these. A person would have conflicted feelings about enjoying aspects of a companion's death. Not house cats, though. They miss you when they miss you, but damn if they don't enjoy your absence when it benefits them.

A brother for Christmas

I did all my Christmas shopping in one quick burst of productivity. I found out my brother was coming up for sure, so I set out to get some things for him to open under the tree. And we are getting a tree, this tree:

The Dude is out buying it now, supposing there are any left. I imagine this pathetic little number will be popular with the likes of other fellow 20-somethings-sans-children.

But getting back to my brother, while I'm really looking forward to a quiet Christmas with the Dude, having my brother here will add that family cozy element to the holiday. Also I can't help but feel a little maternal towards him and that makes me want to try harder to have a nice Christmas for him.

He really wanted to make it here before Jerry passed. Jerry was his cat. He named him Jeremy when he was 8 years old, I'm pretty sure after a kid in my class who was a bit of a troublemaker. He did this to bother me, I think, because having a cat named for someone in your class is awkward and my brother specialized in driving me crazy. I started calling Jeremy "Jerry" for short to make it less obnoxious. Luckily it stuck. I don't know how many cats have nicknames, but that cat did. Eventually we stopped referring to the cats as Smokey and Jeremy entirely.

My brother and his friends gave him other nicknames, like Jeremiah King of the Gypsies. The Dude's brother called him Little Jerry Seinfeld. I called him Geriatric Jerry. When the spirit moved me, he also went by Jerome and Gerald. He was born to be nicknamed, that cat.

But although my brother missed Jerry, Smokey could use the visit from him. He's been lonely and sucky, poor little guy. I decided to get Jerry's ashes returned to me, which I'm hoping to give my brother when he's here, thinking maybe he'd like to sprinkle them somewhere meaningful as a way to say goodbye.

It's an interesting season this year. There's been hard choices, loss, and a new feeling of adult responsibility. And now making my own Christmas rather than only participating. It's an unexpected little milestone to cross. Surprisingly and pleasantly so, I feel positive about it.

He's Gone

He turned to face me. He didn't fight it. We looked each other in the eyes. I stroked his face and told him he was a good boy and that it'll be okay. And then he went.

Five hours

Jerry is cuddling beside me. I'll leave here at 5:00 to go to the vet to end his pain. I can barely stand it. I can't imagine a life without him in it. I haven't had a life without him in it since I was 10.

I love his old demanding meow that sounds more like he's saying, "Now!" I love his little ears and wee bald patches in front of them. I love the way he always comes when he's called. I love his attentiveness to strangers and how he doesn't make shy or snooty with anybody. I love the way he is always angling to be under the covers. I love how he was in charge even though he was the smaller pet. I love how easy it's been to make him happy.

He's made me happy. He's made Smokey and the Dude and my brother happy. I've been getting emails and calls from friends and family letting me know they're thinking of us.

Even though Jerry will not be here for Christmas, we're staying. I don't feel festive and I don't feel like travelling or leaving Smokey behind alone.

I have five hours left with my pet. My heart hurts.

New plan...

Change of plans.

I took some time to reflect during a bath. Jerry was at the edge of the tub, looking miserable and staring into the wall. He looked at me, head low, eyes sad and tired. After I got out I tried to feed him again with the syringe and he wasn't really interested. And it hit me that after a biopsy in his mouth, if he doesn't want to eat now or can't, then he's really going to suffer tomorrow.

I can't do that to him, not for my own peace of mind.

I sobbed and held my cat. And then I called the vet, cancelled tomorrow's appointment and asked for one on Friday to end Jerry's pain. The Dude was beside me, crying and supporting my choice. I felt helpless and sick.

I hung up. And then Jerry jumped up from the foot of the couch with more ease than I've seen in days. He walked over to me, and sat in my lap and gazed at me. I stroked his face and it was the moment I had been waiting for. He didn't look pained or sad. I felt like he was letting me off the hook. He then walked down to my legs, curled up in a ball and fell into the most peaceful sleep I've seen him had in days. He even started to purr.

I don't know how cats know what they know. I don't know what they understand. But Jerry, I'm sure of it, knows I love him and that I'm going to do what I need to do to end his suffering. I feel a growing sense of acceptance about this, though the actual pain remains. We'll have our last day with him tomorrow, the Dude will come with me Friday, and then Jerry and I will go through this together.

Another part of my day

Jerry's biopsy is tomorrow. Today I resorted to feeding him his cat food with a syringe. I watched him eat this morning and it took a long time to eat little. I had no idea how fast this whole thing would take over his mouth. His breath is foul. He's drooling all the time and I'm always wiping his mouth. He just looks for cuddles now and anytime I come out with a syringe, he scampers after me, knowing it's something he wants and I'm going to give it to him.

I just need to bloody know what his results are. What is this thing? Living in limbo with this is too hard. I hate everything about it. I just want my cat out of pain at this point and I need to know the correct action to take. I can't end his life until I know I must. I just can't, even though I know at this point many people wouldn't blame me. But I'd blame myself and I'd never get over it without having tried everything.

My days have become long and tedious. My sleep is poor, I smell Jerry's foul breath everywhere. I brush the crusty bits of his fur where he's attempted to groom. I push water into his mouth every few hours. I give him his codeine and Smokey his insulin (which thankfully are timed together). I feed Jerry and fret over his strong appetite and inability to eat all that he wants. I do my job at my computer. I get housework done during my breaks. I realize I've skipped meals. Leaving the house makes me worry and gives me relief.

Jerry is curled up on my outstretched legs. Occasionally I hear an unpleasant gurgling noise.

Another part of my day is periodically crying. I just need this to be over.

Avoiding the bus is good

I crafted, I crafted! I'm pleased with my little card creations. I didn't make them terribly elaborate, but I did make them myself and I did my best to make as many as I could in one evening. I was aiming for 20 and I made 14.

Here are a few:
Most aren't as elaborate as the candy cane or stocking, but I'm pleased enough with them to send them out without worrying that the recipients will wonder, "What the hell is this shit?"

I also have to mail out a clock. In my infinite wisdom, for my aunt in Vancouver I bought this one-of-a-kind craft clock and that requires special packing to avoid damaging the hands and is also fragile. I've also now waited until 11 days before Christmas and counting, so I'll have to pay for faster delivery. Her gift to me arrived days and days ago. She's obviously more organized.

Christmas plans are taking shape. The Dude and I are most likely staying here to be with Jerry, my brother may come up and his brother and his fiancee may be watching movies with us on the 26th. Definitely low-key. I'm warming up to it more and more these days. Letting go of the idea of a big family Christmas is hard, but it's not without bonuses when you think about it.

1. No bus ride there.
2. No bus ride back home.
3. No waiting in line to buy a bus ticket.
4. No waiting in line over an hour for the bus. (See a pattern developing?)

So while I'll miss my family, this will also be the year of avoiding the godforsaken bus.

Distracted

Not feeling quite up to the follow-up post to my last one, so I'm going to talk about my life again, in all its feeble glory.

Jerry is slowly deteriorating. His biopsy is the 17th. So four days more of wondering. I've been mentally preparing myself for the most likely outcome, which will result in putting him down. He's eating a little less, drooling a little more... The growth must be growing very fast. The vet did say it would be aggressive. Poor little guy. Yeah, he's old, but who wants to grow dependent and die?

Today is going to be enjoyable, though. It's craft club day. I've bought the materials and I'm going to make Christmas cards. I'm going to try to make Christmas cards, anyway. I've never done anything like that before. I tend to have an artistic knack and usually I can make something decent my first go. I think probably having the confidence to try new mediums is what helps me. So I'm hoping this go will be successful.

Man... I feel distracted, too distracted to even try to make a good post. I can only think about my cat.

Know what? Here's a funny blog about terrible crafts, in honour of craft club day. May we do better than these people: http://www.regretsy.com

Jerry's News

I got Jerry's results yesterday in the early evening. I had been hoping for a kidney problem, which could then be treated with meds and the growth would shrink and disappear.

His tests show a healthy normal body. This growth in his mouth, which is growing and making eating difficult, is likely a tumour. Tumours, even benign ones, can't be treated. To remove it would take a portion of his tongue. There is an outside chance it's not a tumour and is something else that can be treated. But I have no hope.

I'm going to get him the biopsy anyway. I need to know for sure there is nothing I can do before I end his pain. I need to know if there is anything else that can be done. I love him terribly, unconditionally, with the sort of love my heart would lavish on my children someday. I won't let him down by not seeing this through till the end. And I can't live with myself unless I know for sure I'm doing the right thing.

God...

He's been cuddling with me a lot more these past few days. He looks in my eyes with a new expression now. It's like he knows the end is near. I feed him water with a syringe and though he doesn't enjoy the process, he accepts the water and relaxes into my arms. I hold him like a baby and tell him what a good boy he is.

The Dude is heartbroken. Jerry has been sleeping next to him under the covers for two years now. He was talking about Jerry this evening, about how he warmed up to him immediately and never made him feel like an outsider when he moved in. And that's Jerry for you, he always makes time for anyone in the house. He's not snobby about his attention and affection. That's a rare cat.

Right now he's sleeping in a ball on my outstretched legs. I don't know how much longer I have with him. I'm cherishing every moment.

The Dude and I may stay in Toronto for Christmas if Jerry is still alive because he'll need care. I told the Dude I would stay and in the next heartbeat he said if I stayed, he would stay, for me and for Jerry. I'll miss my family at Christmas, but in my home is where my family is, the Dude and my cats. And I can't miss one day of the last time we'll all be together.