Dear One who Love my Cat before Me: I’m sorry, but let me explain.
I met him back in 2017.
A girl I went to high school with had shared a picture of this fluffy, black cat with big, bright eyes in search of a home.
I’ve always been a fan of cats, but I’d been wanting one like this for a long time. He was just so beautiful: long, whispery whiskers, thick hair, dark all over, and his fur would glint a chocolate-red in the sun.
I talked my mom into letting him become a part of our family, understanding that he would be mine wherever I went. I was working my way through college at the time, living at home, dreaming of the day I’d spread my wings and make a nest of my own, and it felt good to invest in this pet partner.
I admit, blinded by his beauty, I assumed he was a girl. His first trip to the vet for a check-up turned into a gender reveal party though. My classy Jackie became Jack and that was that.
Months turned into years. My life was taking its course. A diploma came to rest on the wall of my first apartment, and all the while, in the back of my mind, I thought of you.
Since that first vet visit, when I learned that Jack had been neutered, and therefore, likely, belonged to someone else, I started to wonder: Where are you? Who are you? Did I break your heart?
At this point, Jack had become a steady presence in my life. I couldn’t imagine waking up without his paw on my shoulder, or his meow in the morning by the door. Were you missing those things I’d grown so accustomed to loving?
The love we feel for our furry companions is pretty remarkable really. We form this deep bond, a human connection with an animal we call our own…but animal ownership can be a sticky business, especially with cats like ours who consider the great outdoors their purrsonal (do you like puns too?) playground.
I tried to find you before…but, I admit I took a sigh of relief when Jack came up without a microchip.
I am sorry, but, if it’s any consolation, I know what it’s like to lose a cat you love.
Kimble disappeared several years before Jack came into my life. She was the family cat, but I like to think that maybe she loved me the most.
She had a gentle spirit, faint spots, and a soft purr. She spent most of the day indoors, but she liked to prowl at night. Sound familiar?
Anyways, one day, she just didn’t come back.
I drove around looking for her, calling her, hoping she’d return.
No luck.
I was heartbroken, and though time helped heal the wound, you never really forget a cat like that. YOU know.
I hope that maybe this letter finds you, and that perhaps you’ve opened your heart up to another fine feline. Maybe you have Kimble and this is just the universe balancing things out for us both. Most of all, though, I hope you know that Jack is loved. You don’t have to worry. I promise. He’s fed well and loved immensely. I know he likes playing with plastic bags and sleeping on the top of the kitchen cupboards. I know he likes fresh catnip, not the cheap stuff. You spoiled him, and I will too. It’s the least I can do.
I hope one day we can connect, perhaps share a cup of tea, and work out a visitation plan. I know he loves you still.
Sincerely,
The One who Loves your Cat now
Up Late with Kate 