by Shirley Gooding

Created on: April 03, 2009

Awhile ago my moms 20 year-old cat Jezebel passed away in my childhood home back in Syracuse, N.Y. Originally my sisters cat, Susan left her behind when she went to seek fame and fortune in New York City. She lived with my mom most of her life but was never an affectionate creature. She would sleep with my mom though and as long as moms legs remained perfectly still all was fine. The slightest movement of my mothers legs however would provoke this miniature tiger to lash out against the offending limb.

Mom knew that her old cats life was coming to a close when Jezebel would no longer make the trip downstairs to her water and food bowl. For awhile she was content to lap water from the dish mom had brought up for her. When she seemed too weak to do that and started dipping her paw into the bowl and licking the moisture from her fur, mom started feeding her the vital fluid with a spoon. By this time Jezebel had curled up into a corner on moms bed and would not move. She cried piteously as she was blind, deaf and no longer knew where she was. Mom took her in her arms, something she dared not do at any other time in their relationship. She looked at my mother with unseeing eyes and let out a rusty purr. Then she was gone.

She buried Jezebel under the pussy willow bush that was a grave marker for another sisters cat that had passed away long before Jezebel was a twinkle in her papa's eye. She adorned the grave with the newest occupant with babies breath and lilies of the valley. Then she went inside and cried for the loss of companionship. She never got another pet. At 81 she is afraid it will out live her.

About the same time, 3000 miles away in California, I noticed one of my little rescue kittens was lying on his side, panting. Timmy was barely 3-weeks-old and was one of six my son had found abandoned in a card-board box in a shopping mall. I scooped him up and he immediately nuzzled under my long hair. He refused to eat and was having trouble breathing. I wrapped the little guy in a soft baby blanket and held him in my arms until he took his last breath. What many people don't realize is that often a dying kitten or cat will purr during the process. That is what Timmy did. An hour later his litter-mate Tommy did the same thing. I went through the exact same ritual with him and cried for both lost babies and my moms cat. I wonder if Jezebel will meet up with my Tommy and Timmy and bring out the loving mother that was denied her as an earthly cat. Though their life spans were different, perhaps in some way they were meant for each other.

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