Reading the thread about the anniversary of Swampy's passing made me realise that it's ten years ago this month since my last cat, Jones, went to the Bridge.
I hope you all won't think this is too indulgent of me, honouring the memory of a cat who went to the Bridge so long ago. Sadly, back then, there were no wonderful forums like this one where I could have shared my grief and found a lot of comfort - and given Jones a proper epitaph. So I'd like to do the latter now.
Jones was the son of a rescued cat. His mother, a wonderful little tortoiseshell and white nutter called Morrissey, was given temporary shelter by a kind couple who found her living rough on a building site in Cricklewood. Because they had cats of their own, they couldn't give her a permanent home and, through word of mouth, I found her and brought her home - suspecting she was pregnant but unable to resist her charms! Several weeks later she gave birth to just two kittens - sadly one was stillborn, but the other was a lovely little black and white boy that we kept and named Jones.
I had Jones for over 13 years. Relationships, friendships, jobs and homes all came and went but Jones stayed with me through everything, including his mum passing on when he was about seven.
Some time in November 2000 I came home to find him "not right". He spent a week at the vet's, receiving the best care and attention but to no avail. A week later, he was diagnosed with lymphoma and was so ill that the vet - a lovely man who knew Jones well (even neutered tomcats get into scrapes and fights!) - advised me to make That Decision. I'm glad that I can't remember the exact date because, even after all this time, the day would just be too sad to bear. I do remember, though, feeling priviliged that I'd seen him take both his first breath and his last.
I can't say Jones was a particularly gifted or intelligent cat but he was my mate and my world felt like it had ended when he left it.
A framed photo of him is in a prominent place in our living room, his ashes are on a shelf nearby.
I imagine him now on the Bridge, being the grumpy old git he turned into in his later years and putting the younger upstarts in their place - as he used to do with my neighbour's kitten who thought it was fun to stalk him as he sat in the garden taking the midday sun!
Finally, I have cats again! They're gorgeous and I love them, but I hope they won't mind too much that I still miss my mate.
Jones: 1 April 1987-November 2000. RIP mate.
