On Thursday morning, I noticed my cat was acting sick, just kind of lying around. When I took him to the vet, I found out that his kidneys and liver were failing. It would have taken a blood transfusion just for him to make it through the weekend, and even if they could stabilize him, he would need daily shots, and would just keep getting sicker and sicker. So, after many tears, I made the decision, and Thursday evening, my cat Jesse was put to sleep.

A friend of mine found Jesse when she heard this strange sound coming from a hole in the laundry room wall at her apartment building. She reached in and pulled out a three week old, filthy, wailing kitten. She had to feed him with a baby bottle. But her roommate was terribly allergic, so eventually, they needed to find a home for him, and I took him in.

For three years, I wondered if there was something wrong with Jesse, because he never meowed. One day I looked down and I was accidently standing on his tail, and still, not a peep. Then one day, there were workmen coming to my apartment, so I shut him in the bathroom so he wouldn't run out the door. When I opened the door to let him out, he looked at me, gave a single "meow" and walked past me out of the bathroom. I suppose that he just never made a noise because up until that point, everything had pretty much been ok. That stoic attitude stayed with him through his whole life. He had terrible urinary tract and bladder problems, which had to have been painful...usually, you can tell when a cat has this because it will cry and cry...but Jesse just bore it all silently. For four years, he was sick almost constantly, but after countless trips to the vet and two surgeries, he was finally better.

And he was a tough little fella. I used to worry about the dog tormenting him, and then I realized that when they fought, it was usually Jesse starting the fight! He would sit on a chair, and jump on my dog's back as he walked by. It didn't matter one bit that the dog weighed four times what he did. I once tried using the old "water pistol" trick to get him to stay off the table. Never worked...for two weeks, he just walked around wet all the time...seemed like nothing could keep him from doing just what he pleased.

But he was always my sweet kitty. No one else could really get near him...he never even really warmed up to my ex, who he lived with for 11 years...but he was just the most affectionate thing with me, cuddling with me, purring, sleeping between my feet. It was like a little secret, only showing me what a sweet and loving cat he really was.

And now my little boy is gone. Everywhere I look, there are signs of him. I miss him so much.

I'm sorry this was so long - thank you to those who managed to get through the whole thing. I know I'm not handling this well, so I hope that by writing it all down, it will help me handle losing my dear, sweet, little Jesse.

mj