Tonight I’m lonely. I’ve not slept.

I thought about grief and Mary Jane a bit. Part of me doesn’t want to grieve her with any more tears. I want to celebrate her. I want to think about all the ways she was spoiled rotten, about the things she did that made me laugh and how she was the feline version of me…mouthy. Oh my gosh, Janie was a talker !!!!

When she wanted me to pet her she’d paw at my hand. I got to the point that I’d tap my finger at her paw so she’d leave me alone but she’d just sit there and stare at my hand like, pet me plllleassse.

I loved that she put the side of her face against mine when I picked her up. I loved how warm she felt and the vibration of her purr box. That’s what I want to think about. I want to think about the kitty who didn’t know a stranger but was sure to be obvious about not liking certain strangers. That happened three times with her. She completely ignored three different people and she was right each time.

I want to think about how adorable she looked sleeping in her bed next to my bed. I want to think about her eating out of matching, handmade ceramic bowls with fresh baked salmon in them. She turned down canned salmon flat. She wasn’t a picky eater but her salmon needed to be fresh, not canned.

I want to think about mornings when I woke and saw her head on my pillow with me. After nightmares, when I opened my eyes and she was the first thing I saw, there was a feeling of comfort I so much needed.

Jane knew boundaries. She knew not to go in my kitchen or my restroom. She didn’t get on the tables. She knew her boundaries, didn’t scratch up my furniture and always used the litter box. I told a friend that I only gave Janie what she deserved which was to be treated like a little furry princess. She was so well behaved and tolerant of me that I wanted to shower her with love. I appreciated that she was easy going, tolerant of change. I appreciated that she loved me even when I couldn’t let her touch me. She knew the command ‘ouch’ and she backed off. Jane was a good service cat, that’s what I want to remember.

Each morning our routine was the same. I took care of the frogs, cared for their food supply then fed Jane. While she was eating I cleaned her litter box. Jane patiently waited for the frogs to be cared for before her bowl was filled.

She didn’t beg for food as I ate because she knew if she left me alone she’d get a bite of chicken or something. I always made some for her in foil. It was just a tiny bite size portion with no spices. She got it if she left me alone. If she bothered me and begged while I ate she didn’t get a thing except sent to the bedroom.

Jane owned my heart, and rightly so. That’s what I want to think about now. I may feel the need to cry more at a later time but for now, let me be grateful for the time I had with her. It was truly special.

I loved that she wanted me to hold her. She wanted to snuggle next to me. She wanted to greet me at the door and wanted to wake beside me. I could tell she loved me and that meant a lot. Honestly, it let me know what I think about myself may not be right. My cat didn’t reject me. Even in pain, angry, emotional, over reacting, quiet, manic, depressed, Jane loved me. I am saddened that she’s not here but I have a difficult time feeling sad concerning the gifts she gave, especially since those gifts are still present.

Animals teach us so much about ourselves and others. I learned a lot with Jane. I got a lot from her, things that didn’t die when she had to go. Love she gave me can’t be taken back. Memories can’t be taken back or nullified because she died. I get to keep those experiences and lessons, always.


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