A Tail of Two (Okay, Three) Kitties - 1

Part 1 of 3

DSCF0961, originally uploaded by d_jazmine.

One day when I was in my mid-twenties I decided the time had come for me to become a pet owner. It hit me out of the blue, I wanted a kitten. Specifically, a calico kitten. I’m not sure why, but the thought of a calico cat had always been appealing to me. Now, I’m the kind of person who makes her mind up, then puts the plan into action. No spreadsheets, no compiling of raw data, no studies of pros and cons…just jump right in. So, while I was at my desk at the office where I worked at the time, I called the Humane Society with hopes of driving straight there after work to pick out my kitty. They were closed. Some people would have taken that as a sign that this was not to be. I took it as a sign that I needed to work harder to find my kitty cat. I was lamenting the fact that my need for instant gratification didn’t match up with the funding available for staffing at the Humane Society, when one of my co-workers said “Hey, my cat just had kittens a few weeks ago, you can have pick of the litter if you want one!”. I said, “Thanks, but I was really hoping to find a calico kitty.” She said “The mom is calico, and so is one of the kittens!” So, off to the farm I drove that night, to see the babies. When I arrived, all of the kittens were piled up having supper on mommy…all except for one tiny calico kitten who marched over to the edge of the box, looked up and me, and said “MEW!”. I was a goner. I cannot tell you how cute she was. My precious baby Jasmine. She was only 6 weeks old, so I did end up having to wait a couple of weeks to bring her home, but on the designated day, I found the softest blanket in my closet, set up her litter box and kitten food, and headed out to pick her up. She was so teensy weensy. I have pictures of her at home, playing with an old 35mm film container, and it was the size of her torso. Insane! She never got bigger than 7lbs. She was petite and beautiful and extremely graceful and athletic. From day one, she was always a one-woman cat. I loved that about her. There were times that I envied people who had cats who would jump happily into anyone’s lap and purr away, but Jasmine was never that way. She had very discriminating taste. Furthermore, she used her perfect pink kitty nose and all of that petite cuteness to lure in many victims over the years. No one could resist her charms, but most wished they had. It was like she got a kick out of seeing how many people she could trick into trying to pet her, only to pay them back by taking a swipe at their fingers. I once took an online “personality” test on her behalf, and her result was: “Al Capone”, possible aliases: Biggie, Mugsy, Vinny, Killer, Claws, The Predator, and Meanie. Because most of my family and friends would agree wholeheartedly (and at least partial-fingeredly), I had a hard time convincing them that when I wanted to get comfy on the couch and watch a movie, she was always my cuddle buddy – she nestled perfectly right into the crook of my arm, with her little fuzzy head on my shoulder. If I was sad, she would come over and investigate, sandpaper licking away salty tears when necessary. Although I used my mommy-tone to “scold” her when she swiped at yet another visitor, she knew from my secret winks that deep down, I adored the fact that she loved me the best.

The hardest thing I ever had to do was say goodbye to Jasmine. She got sick when she was only 10 years old...way too young in kitty years. I had looked forward to spending another 10 years with her when one day, she just didn't seem herself. I took her to the vet, to be told she was in kindey failure. They offered to euthenize her right on the spot if I wanted, since the prognosis was pretty grim. I was shocked and in no way prepared for the news. Since they said she wasn't in pain, we got some fluids in her (I took her in every couple of days for weeks)and she bounced back for a while. I think she knew I wasn't ready, so she let me have a few more months. Then, on April 18th, 2007, I took her in for her last vet visit. They say that we know when it's time for our pets to say goodbye, and it was true. I knew. Ironically, it was my Grandma's birthday (she never was a big cat fan) and the day before my own birthday. That day, I cried the first salty tears in 10 years that she couldn't kiss away. A few slip down my cheeks from time to time, even now, when I think of her. She was my first, after all.

Stay tuned for parts 2 and 3.