My husband and I had just bought our house in 2015 and were determined to fill it with adopted kitties. We had Salem and then came Giorgio Armani. On a whim my husband visited our local animal control and saw Jack the Ripper; an enormous, adult black cat with luminous green-gold eyes that kept bunting the glass whenever my husband got close enough. He called me at work and told me to go straight over and ask for "Jack the Ripper" but not to be fooled by his name. If I liked him we could adopt and take him home that night. Sure enough, I fell in love with Jack and we bonded instantly. When we got him home we noticed that something wasn't right. He didn't jump onto the furniture but literally clawed his way up. We took him back to the shelter as any medical issues noticed during the first 14 days were to be cared for by the shelter. We were told that they didn't have the equipment or staff to figure out what the problem was and if we wanted, we could bring him back and be refunded our adoption fees. Well, that settled it and we took Jack to our vet. After blood tests and xrays, the vet said that he had a spinal fusion of the lumbar vertebrae but was in otherwise good health. He became my cuddle-buddy with his loud, deep purr and huge biscuit-making paws. I called him My Bubba and carried him like a baby everywhere I went. Of course, we adopted others after Jack, but that’s another story.
In early 2018 we began to notice that Jack wasn't eating as much as he used to, was losing weight at a dramatic pace and walking, let alone using the litter pans, was becoming difficult. He was also going blind. Back to the vet. After some blood work and more xrays, the vet diagnosed immune-related myositis; she said there was a possibility of myasthenia gravis but the testing was too invasive and in the condition Jack was in, it would have been too stressful and painful. So we put him on steroids, added more protein to his diet and started physical therapy. Through it all, Jack was a trooper, never losing his sunny disposition or craving for snuggles. Our vet was hopeful but guarded and reminded us, "You can give him quality of life, not quantity of time". The meds helped for a while but in June he seemed to backslide. So back to the vet again for more tests and we ramped up the meds; he improved again.
Around Thanksgiving, Jack took a turn for the worse. The meds no longer seemed to be helping and his appetite had fallen off. Our vet continued to monitor him but was not optimistic. By Christmas Eve we were hand-feeding him wet food mixed with kitten formula and literally carrying him to the litter pans 4-5 times a day. On the Friday before New Year’s Eve, we made the decision to help Jack to Rainbow Bridge before he became uncomfortable and life had no quality. All that week we had "Jack parties" and "Jack meals" and "Jack trips". We lay in the sun and took naps and went outside (he was always an inside cat), we shared tuna salad and Greek yogurt; all of the things he loved to do, we did. And on January 4, 2019, Jack went into the light with his head on my hand and "I love you" in his ears. Because of Jack, the cats we’ve welcomed into our home since 2015 have been the ones with qualities that made them “less desirable” adoption candidates: older, health issues, behavioral issues, and of course, black coloring. Jack taught us that love isn’t always pretty or neat or painless but it is always worth it and always forever.
SPRINGFIELD, IL
