The Story of Jack

by Cathy Imhoff

When Jack came into my life, he was just the runt of a litter of kittens that I fostered. He arrived with his mom Thelma, older sister Louise, and littermates Milo, Diamond, Katie, and Davey (who were adopted by some of our readers!). Jack was the smallest, a little black speck of a kitten, lively and playful.

From left to right: Jack, Milo, Diamond, and Katie; Davey is in the window.

Jack's brothers and sisters had all found new homes and I was working on an application to adopt Jack when I noticed something was wrong. It was late in the evening, and Jack was in my lap breathing hard. Every breath seemed to require a big effort. Alarmed, I called the emergency vet hospital.

After a nightime trip to the emergency vet, a careful examination by my vet, and several tests and X-rays, the verdict was in. Jack had a congenital deformity that narrowed his breathing passageways. It was something that was likely to bother him again any time he had a cold or anything that caused his passageways to become inflamed. My vet, Dr. Martof, had that look on her face - his long-term prospects weren't clear but weren't good either.

I decided that the best thing was for me to adopt him so I could make sure he would get whatever care he needed for however long he would be with me. So Jack joined my little household consisting of one human and several cats.

Jack 'n' me

At one point, Jack developed a particular affection for my oldest male cat Mickey. I can only describe it as "hero worship". I've seen it happen a few times with young male cats. They go up to the senior male cat and are submissive and friendly, actively seeking them out to play and be groomed, and the older male takes them "under their paw". Jack would go up to Mickey and seem to say "Gosh, you're my idol!".

Jack worshiped Mickey, even crawled between his legs!

As Jack grew, he developed into the most wonderful and unique cat. He was absolutely fearless about other cats. He was a friend to every new foster cat that came to my house, and a big brother to every kitten. He was small even as an adult and knew how to say hello to a new cat in a non-threatening way. His approach was to walk right up to a new cat and put his head down, asking to have his ears cleaned. Often they would give a little lick to acknowledge his friendly gesture. When a new kitten would come in, Jack would take him under his paw, clean the kitten's ears, play with him, and curl up with him to nap. Jack was my special kitty ambassador.

Jack and my foster kitten Belana

Jack's most remarkable success as a kitty ambassador was with my foster Kira. Kira was a sweet, gentle cat, and she and I had bonded with a special friendship. However she spent her time in my spare bedroom because she was afraid of my cats, expressing her fear by running at them aggressively. I had tried for months to get her used to them and vice versa, but it just wasn't working. When Jack showed how friendly a kitty he was, it gave me an idea. I knew that adult cats often find kittens less threatening and accept them more readily than other adults. Jack wasn't a young kitten any more but he was still small and he was experienced in getting to know other cats, so I figured we could give it a try. Well Jack walked in and introduced himself to her, asked to have his ears washed, and she happily complied. It was the beginning of a change in Kira, as she found that other cats were OK to be around. Soon she adjusted to the household, and has gotten along fine with my other cats every since. It was also the beginning of a special friendship between Jack and Kira. Their morning ritual was that Jack would jump up onto my bed, where Kira was lounging, and put his head down for his daily ear cleaning.

Jack and Kira

Another of Jack's success stories was with my oldest cat Mickey. Mickey was a little unhappy about the foster cats coming and going from the household. He generally tried to ignore them but expressed his displeasure to me in a stream of what can only be called "cat swearing". He would talk to me in a long discourse of ugly-sounding cat noises, prompting me to nickname him "Mr. Grumpy Paws". I didn't like making him unhappy but I wanted to help rescue cats too. I would sometimes remind him that once upon a time, he too was a little lost stray that I had rescued years before. Mickey had been "Mr. Grumpy Paws" for some time when Jack decided to help. He went up and started cleaning Mickey's ears. Mickey loved it! He just rolled over, belly up, an expression of pure bliss on his face, while Jack carefully groomed his ears. This became another daily ritual, and Mickey quit cussing at me!

Mickey in rapture while Jack cleans his ears!

The first year that Jack was working as my little kitty ambassador we had a number of kittens coming and going as they were rescued and then found homes. Poor Jack kept making friends and then losing them, and I wondered how he felt about it. I soon found out. I had grown attached to one of my fosters, Smooch, and had thought about adopting him myself. He was a sweet all-white kitty, a little shy but very affectionate, and of course Jack was his "big brother". Still I had often encountered some wonderful kitties, and I knew I couldn't keep them all, so I continued to look for a home for him. Well one day I walked into my living room and Jack was bathing Smooch. He had not only cleaned his ears but had apparently licked Smooch's entire body - his fur was swirled into damp curls all over his body. Smooch was lying there enjoying it all with a big heavy-lidded smile on his face, and Jack was happily putting his finishing touches on his bath. I said "OK, Jack, I understand - you want to adopt Smooch." So we did. They were very cute together - both small cats, one all black and the other all white.

Jack and Smooch

When they were over a year old, one of Jack's brothers came back to PAW and back to my house. Milo was a big, bold, totally self confident all grey cat. Surely they didn't remember each other, yet they quickly became fast friends. Jack and Milo liked to hang out together in my patio room, playing and soaking up the sunshine. They made an odd pair - sickly little Jack and big healthy Milo - but they had remarkable similar personalites and were clearly brothers.

Jack and Milo

Jack was also a very curious cat - actually he was downright "nosey"! Whatever was going on and whoever was there, he had to be there checking things out. I keep new foster cats in a spare bedroom with the door closed. Jack would always try to follow me into the room - being fearless, he saw no reason why he shouldn't be there. Sometimes he got tossed out the door but this never stopped him from trying again later! Whenever I came home from a show and put an empty cat carrier on the floor, Jack had to go inside and check it out. He seemed to enjoy going inside this little "hidey hole."

Jack and Henry get cosy in the cat carrier.

Jack and I had a special friendship. He wasn't outgoing in his affections to me, but was always with me - "my little buddy". When I sat on the sofa to watch TV, he was on the sofa arm next to me, or parked with his behind on the sofa back and his front paws draped over my shoulder. At night he always curled up on top of me. I slept on my side so he found a nice crevice between my body and my upper arm to nestle into. When I had to turn over in the middle of the night, he learned to walk over me like a lumberjack rolling logs. Once I was settled in again, he would nestle down and go back to sleep.

Jack and Spot, and Jack and Henry

Jack was a smart little guy. He took a liking to the chair in my living room as his scratching post, even though his special scratching post sat about 3 feet from the chair. Every time he would scratch I would clap my hands loudly and say in a low booming voice "claws!". He would stop and I would put him by the scratching post and see that he used it. Well about the fourth time I did this, I clapped my hands and he stopped, got down himself and went over to the scratching post to scratch. He understood very well what I wanted. Of course he would sometimes ignore me and scratch the chair anyway, but he knew!

Jack was very playful and, due to his small size, very agile. When I got out the kitty toys - feathers, wands, laser pointer - he would fly around the room after them. He could jump and pounce and did so with complete disregard for himself or any other cat in the vicinity!

Spot and Smooch hanging out in the patio room

Jack's health problems continued to plague him. He got colds frequently and his gums became inflamed with gingivitis. His teeth were so bad that he had to have several extracted when he was only a little over a year old. My vet and I had him on antibiotics and anti-inflammatory drugs almost continually. He learned to hate being medicated and fought like a little tiger against having anything put in his mouth! I tried putting his medicine in tuna fish and other tasty foods but this worked only temporarily. I also had to shut Jack and myself into a room so he could eat his treat undisturbed by all the other cats in the house who wanted some! Eventually we settled into a routine of a monthly trip to see my vet, who gave Jack a shot of a long-acting antibiotic and Prednisone. This seemed to work pretty well, but I could always tell when the month was nearly up because Jack would get a runny eye again and act a little sluggish.

Last December Jack became sick again. This time the antibiotics and Prednisone helped him only temporarily, and he got worse and worse. One night he was curled up on my bed napping and I was in the living room watching TV. Then I realized that he was staggering toward me, trying to walk over to me in the living room. I picked him up and realized that he was dying. He curled up in my arms as I petted him and tried to comfort him if I could. Then it was over. I realized that he somehow knew that the end had finally come and his last act was to seek me out.

This spring has been a hard one for the PAW cat fosters. We've lost some tiny kittens who have succumbed to infections and other problems. But I know that Jack is on the other side, waiting to take them under his paw, lick their ears, and tell them that everything is OK.

Good bye, little buddy, and rest in peace.

Jack April 1998 - January 3, 2000