That Effin' Killing Crate.

For much of the eleven years she was in my life, I was never truly hers.

Jasmine was not the cat that I loved most, no. I never really loved cats to begin with - at heart, I'd call myself a dog lover - and she was as catty in behaviour as they came. It's part of the reason why I loved my orange boy cat Pumpkin so much because he acted very much like a dog. 

He was the one that was smart. The one that I found using the toilet one morning because the door to the basement where his litter box was, was somehow closed and he had to take matters into his own paws. He was the one that I played video games with and revealed my secret love of the USA network to. Why? Because one day, Pumpkin decided he was going to be a lap cat. Whenever I sat down on that couch, Pumpkin would find himself nestled in my lap.

I was Pumpkin's girl. He owned me.

Jazzy was my cat. I owned her.

Pumpkin and Jazzy were my Brother Bunji's cats in the years before he and my sister-in-law, Angelo started a family. Soon after my first nephew, little A-Face was born, we discovered that he had severe allergies to the cats. And so, some tears later at the thought they would be sheltered, I took both of them into my home. I couldn't bear to think of them living in a shelter again after having been a part of our family for so long.

Jazzy had always loved my Angelo. Jazz was aloof and cold towards every single one of us except my sister-in-law. Due to that, my relationship with her was that she was just this pet I had. I tried to be nice to her but was often met by slaps or an evil eye.

It took a few years but things started changing after she moved in with me. I became the hand that fed her. I was the one that pet her daily. I was the one that let her lick my toes and sleep by my feet. I didn't realize it at the time but she started to love me. In fact, she loved me too much.

Her bad behaviour began about four years ago when she began to get very aggressive towards Pumpkin. She began acting out for one reason that was very apparent - she was diagnosed with stomatitis. Her gums were inflamed and she was cranky. Some hundreds of dollars later on medication and pet clinic visits, Jazzy became well again. Except, her naughty behaviour continued. And on the walk from the ice-cream truck to the Tabletop RPG store, Beetchie said something that struck a chord with me. It was the second reason for her behavior that made me terribly sad.

"Hmm, you know...Jazz is very jealous of Pumpkin. She's a one person sort of cat. It's probably why she's acting up and being so aggressive towards him. You're the one she loves now," she said.

It was true. I had caught Jazz giving Pumpkin the evil eye whenever he sat in my lap. She was prone to dishing those out all the time to anyone who would dare look in her direction, but with Beetchie's words in the back of my mind, I began seeing the signs.

The cat that I didn't think shared in all my passions for questionable television programming and fifty plus hour long RPGs, was actually sitting behind my head the entire time and taking it all in too. She just wanted to be close to me.

Last Labor Day when I had to put my little Pumpkin down, I sobbed. When I brought the crate home without the cat, Jazz sniffed it with curiosity. When the days went by and she showed no interest about the cat that never came home, I recalled Beetchie's words.

With no other cat to stand in her way, Jazzy became enamoured with me. She would stalk me around the house, always at my heels. She would wait outside my bedroom door. She even dared to step on my lap a few times, but she was never quite sure how to be a lap cat. She instead would constantly nudge at my hand for me to pet her. All those years of ignoring me, and for my part, all my years of somewhat ignoring her were gone. Jazzy actually became affectionate, something I never thought I would see.

A short time ago, I knew something was wrong again and attributed it to her stomatitis flaring up. Even with her drooling mouth, she followed me around and tried to cuddle. She was sick but she was as trusting and loving as ever.

I knew I had to do right by her - and although I thought about the monetary set back it would be especially having been unemployed for nearly a year - I knew I would just have to suck it up. It was the least I could do for my little cat. 

I packed her up in the crate Saturday morning and took her to the vet. Thinking I would be set back $235 or so with an additional $35 for her steroid medication, I came home instead with the same empty crate and a $368 cremation fee and pick up slip. And tears. Lots and lots of tears.

I am happy to report that my little Jazzy girl left this world as the bitch she was until the end.

When the vet gave her her second to last shot to calm her, she hissed and snapped at him. When I stopped petting her head after the five minute session and took my hand away, she gave me a cut eye as if to say, "Bitch, I didn't tell you to stop petting me."

Someone told me today that I should think about the good times I had with her. And yeah, I'll remember how adept she was at killing moths and assorted bugs. I'll remember her sweet little meow. and how she used to jump on the front door and look out for me. Just last night I went to open the front door and thought I heard a little familiar meow. H1 says she was saying goodbye to me.

I'll definitely remember how close she and I became in past few years.

But the first thing I remember of the good times with her, was that she was a mean little bitch like you wouldn't believe. It was a part of her personality and she had sass. And you know, I can't help but laugh.

Here's to you my little Jazzy - a true bitch amongst ourselves.

I love you.

Pumpkin

You know...I guess I always thought that I would have Pumpies for a long time still.  

Maybe another 5 years or so years, I thought.  In my head I always thought he would live until he was 18 and he only just turned 13 on August 31st.  

I remember when we got him.  I went with brother Bunji and Angelo to the shelter one day.  I walked around and he was the first to catch my eye.  This orange boy who came up to greet me and was super friendly in his cage.  An older cat .. he was near 2 when we got him and it was already hard for the older ones to be adopted.  I had no idea why he was still there because he was to me, the most beautiful, funny little cat with so much personality.  All I needed were those 3 or so minutes with him to know he was the one.

Angelo called us over to see this all black cat named Firefighter.  I was in mid sentence saying how cute he was when he slapped me in the face through his cage.  That was an immediate no, even if that story makes for a great laugh every time I recall it.

I went back to Pumpkin and excitedly called my brother to come see this charming, friendly cat.  When we got to his cage he was curled up in at the back and refused to be social.  "Come on cat...I am trying to help you out here! Be friendly like before and you can come home with us!"

My brother moved on to look at the other cats.  That day we almost went home with Firefighter.  I don't know how I convinced them but I remember I just kep harping on Pumpkin.  In my mind he was already my cat.  And even if he was going home to my brother's, I chose him.  I fought for him.  I always joked with Pumpkin that he owed me his life.

When they finally decided he was the one what I already knew in my heart, we took him home and tried to change his name.  Pumpkin was already his name and we liked it enough to stick with it.  There was nothing else to call him.  He was Pumpkin.  

He had more personality than I ever imagined.  We heard from the shelter that he used to knock the toys down from the shelf down to the other cats so they could play with them.  During his time with us we spoiled him rotten and he became this bratty beast.  I say brat but really all he ever did was want attention and constant petting.  But most of all he was pretty smart.  He was insanely smart to the point where there was just so much knowing and intelligence in his eyes.  It is something I could never describe to you.  He was dog like in his ways.  Human in his thinking.  

This is still the funniest picture of him. 

I apologized to him for making the decision I made.  I could have held on for selfish reasons but I knew I could not put him through that.  He was mild-mannered and happy to be with me even to the end.  Bughie J. told me that Pumpkin knew I did right by him by making the decision I made and that it would have been hard watching Pumpkin not do all the Pumpkinie things he used to do that made him who he was.  The problem was that even in his state he was being the boy I always knew.  Maybe he slowed down some but there he was, still begging for food and still headbutting your hand for petting.  

It broke me when he was given his sedative and he turned to look at what the vet was doing and then just like that, my hand which had been cradling the side of his face, he took comfort in it like he always did, nuzzled his little face down into it and went to sleep.

Yesterday I could not sit on the couch when I got home after holding his little face in my hands and kissing him goodbye.  I just couldn't sit on the couch.  Every time I did there was always a little orange/bottle blonde beast that would come out of no where and nuzzle his way into my lap and yesterday I looked around aimlessly because even though I knew what had just happened, it snapped like a routine and for one brief second I looked around puzzled.  

This was a habit he picked up later on his life.  I don't know what changed him but one day he just decided he would be a lap cat.  The first time he did it it was with a complete stranger who happened to be quite a pretty woman.  We joked about that - here he was hamming it up for a pretty face.

Then one day he just crawled into my lap and never left.  He had been doing it for years and it is hard for me to remember what he did before that.  I don't know.  Maybe I just became beautiful to him that day.  I guess I should feel flattered.

When I looked down, there was my little Pumpkin.

But the couch... I don't know when I can get back to it.  There's no cat to sit in my lap.  I can't even bear to look at it.  I can hardly bear to walk in the house.  I remember all those nights I spent sitting on that thing and here he was fighting his way to crawl on my lap.  "Pumpkin!", I would always joke as if I were exasperated and annoyed but he knew I would have it no other way.  I missed him after all whenever he decided he was more interested in being on his cat perch than being with me.  I would beg him to come.  That irony was never lost on me.

We watched countless shows together.  All the USA Network ones I sometimes feign I have no knowledge on.  Luther.  Futurama.  Gravity Falls.  News.  Any and everything.  We also played so many games together.  Uncharted.  Countless hours of dozens of JRPGs.  How many hours of the same Japanese tropes and dramatics did we sink time with together?  How many chocobos did we ride together? How many fantastical beasts and bosses did we fight together? How many times did he have to hear me gasp at a plot twist? How many explicit cries of frustration at not being able to overcome a portion of a game? How many times did he have to hear Link do a signature cry when attacking some stalfos?  

All you jerks will remember how fat he was.  But he was big-boned! He did love his food though.  That little jerk would never leave my plate alone! He grabbed food off of it the other day.  After I had been saving that piece of chicken to enjoy last too... Oh, Pumps.

I'm also glad Beetchie got to say goodbye to him too.  Thank you, B.

I say he was my cat.  But really H1 always said that it was not that he was my cat...it was that I was his girl.  It's true.  But I always made that other joke the wrong way, Pumpkin because I owed you my life.

I miss you so much, Pumps.  I'm sorry I didn't let you come sleep on my head one last time the night before.

I miss that orange butt in my face.