Thanks for joining me!
I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity. — Edgar Allen Poe
As my children call me the crazy cat lady, I figured I would start my first blog with the topic of cats.
My first cat was Jamie, she was technically my mom’s cat. My mom and dad had her before I was born. She was the $1000 cat because she climbed up inside my dad’s Karmann Ghia and was still there when he started the car, her leg got caught in a belt and was broken.
This cat did not tolerate me when I was growing up. Probably something about not liking little kids and I came away with many a scratch. Once I became a teenager, she didn’t seem to mind me as much. Jamie had been mostly an outdoor cat up until she ended up with another broken leg. This one we thought was from the dogs stepping on her.
From that point on Jamie became an indoor cat and I was relegated to be her caregiver. And like any 13 year old I was not thrilled with my new chore. The dreaded litter box…many gag inducing odors later, she became my cat. She would hop up on my waterbed (what 13 year old kid in the 80’s didn’t want a waterbed?) and she would totter around until she would finally lay down on my legs.
Now by this time, being a teenager, and my mother acquiring her before I was born, the cat is now about 14 years old, translated go cat years she is somewhere between 72 and 120! When you are that age you start having other problems. While still healing from her 2nd broken leg, she shook her head a little too had and burst a blood vessel in her ear. She walked around with a bubble in her ear for a while and the back to the vet we went.
The vet drained the ear but for some reason the tube was put in wrong and her ear went all crinkly. The other part of old cats is that their eyes start getting really weepy so she started going bald around her eyes and looked like she was always crying brown goo. She eventually lost all her teeth and had to be fed wet food and of course she also went deaf so when she meowed, it was more like a broken squeaky wheel. And she would make the sound multiple times when she would see me, which tended to be annoying, but she was still my cat and I loved her and took care of her.
When I was about 15 we moved from the country into town and my parents built a house. Due to some incontinence issues, Jamie became an outdoor kitty again and would snuggle into the mulch in the flower bed by the garage near where I parked my car. Having moved schools, made a few new best friend, I brought her to my house. Katherine walked around the car and saw my beloved Jamie.”What in the hell is that! It looks like something from ‘Pet Cemetery’! From that point on she would go nowhere near that cat. And frequently commented about the Pet Cemetery cat when talking with our friends.
By the time I turned 18, it was time to say goodbye, her hips had given out and she could no longer get up to go potty. This scary and evil, then loving little calico began my love of cats. RIP Jamie the Pet Cemetery cat. I really wish I had some photos to share with you, but you know old cameras, taking film to get developed…I think I still have some in a box some where…30 years later.
And a little note of tribute to the person I considered my best friend from age 16 until 1 year and and 25 days ago. Katherine passed away of cancer. I miss you Katherine the Great!
Update: I found some pictures of Jamie when she was young.