Memoir of Jack

Black "Jack" Grudzielanek has moved on to lay upon the lap of Jesus. In his short eight years of life in my care, he has been an active little guy. He's had two brothers and a sister in his life, and was a great companion to both them and myself. Always a curious cat, he would greet my visitors with eagerness and love--always trying to give anyone his trademark "nose-kiss" with his damp, black nose. (Except for my two wonderful nephews who would chase him around Grandma's home.)

Upon arriving home from work Friday night, his health took a nose dive for the worse. While his condition left him to fall, stumble and lose his balance (refer to blog entry a few days prior), he no longer was able to walk more than a few steps without falling and his body would tighten with pain, as his heart-renching cry would indicate. In utter sadness, I watched him "get up" from his cozy blanket by the heat register by rolling off and crashing on the floor. I had prayed hard for Jack--I prayed for God to heal him, whichever way that meant--in an earthly fashion or a life in eternal catnip and people to walk upon, as he would frequently do when guests were over.

Friday night, I knew that Jack wasn't going to get well. I stayed up late watching TV mostly to spend the last remaining time I had with him stretched across my chest, purring and thwacking his tail. Around 12:30 or so, I setup some cushions around my bed and a "ladder" for him to get up or down since I knew he didn't have the energy to make the full leap to my bed; and to protect him if he wanted to get down. I snuggled with Jack all night long--he didn't move; neither did I. Upon waking up, I knew the worst for me was coming--that trip to the vet. I shed tears upon tears; trying to praise the Lord for my time with Jack--knowing full well, this was the last I was going to be able to hold him. I buried him with is brothers in the back yard, and am now faced with my house being that much more empty.

I am, without a doubt, going to miss Jack. Typing at my computer will never be the same without his 10 lb sleek, black body keeping my lap warm; feeling the reverberations of his purr on my legs; or his thumping tail as I would gently pet him. Watching TV or reading a book without him on my chest will cause me to miss him further. I am happy that he is with God now, for I know that God's care trumps mine, and I look forward to the day when I can be reunited with Jack and the others I had the privilege to care for.

I now seek prayers for Oreo--his sister that he had spent the last year with. When Jill suddenly left, Jack was alone in my absence, and I could hear his wailing cry as I approached the door--and then eagerly greeted when I walked through. I pray that she can cope without Jack around as I don't know if I'll get her another brother. I am now left with complete dullness to life; full aware that I am loved by God, but my joy is overshadowed with the loss of a wonderful son.