Eulogy

The beginning of our summer fun has been interspersed with some tears.

The tears are due to the passing of our beloved kitty, Jack. He was hit by a car last week after a life of much loving, purring, jumping, running, chasing butterflies, playing with other kitties, patiently tolerating Lily's face-grabbing and fur-pulling antics, and snuggling up in our laps. He was the most patient and easy-going cat I have ever met. He was very popular among our neighbors, and everyone would tell us how sweet and friendly they thought he was. I think he had a very happy life here. He was also very afraid of cars and would never go into the road, so I am really not sure how he got hit. We actually didn't see him, but when he had been missing for several days, which had never happened before, we put up fliers around our neighborhood. The next day we received multiple calls from people saying they had seen him on the side of the road.

It has been a lot harder than I expected. He was Adam's first pet, and we got him the day after Lily was born so he could be her cat. It seems that in just 7 months, he already gave her a strong love for animals that will hopefully last a lifetime. But I still regret the time that she won't have with him, especially since she is too young to remember him at all.

I am grateful for the time I had with him, but it just doesn't seem like enough. I have been surprised at how much I miss him. I know what it's like to miss someone after breaking up or moving away. Everything reminds you of them, and you momentarily forget they are gone multiple times every day. I didn't expect it to be like that with Jack. My beloved horse passed away during my freshman year of college, and I was extremely sad about it. But I hadn't had daily interaction with her for a couple years. Jack was constantly part of our lives. In our small apartment, we were continually tripping over him, feeding him, petting him, letting Lily pet him (and trying to keep her from doing anything worse).

Since he's been gone, everything reminds me of him. Whenever I hear a cat meow outside, I think it's him for a moment before remembering he's gone. Sometimes I go into Lily's room and automatically glance under the crib to see if he's napping there. When Lily is fussy, I still think to myself periodically that maybe I will find Jack and let her pet him, since it makes her more happy than anything else. And then of course I remember that he's gone, and it makes me cry. And of course I keep thinking that I've gotten over it and I am done crying, but I'm not. And since I am crying while I'm writing this, I think I should probably be done. But first, here are a couple pictures of Jack, our beloved kitty. I am sure he is still chasing butterflies, wherever he is.