Farewell, Sweet Friend

Jones, 2007-2011

It's taken me a while to write this because it's still so fresh.  My sweetest little furry companion, John Paul Jones, passed away last month.  He was very special to me.  Always willing to let me hold him, made the best kitty muffins ever.

When we rescued Jones from the animal shelter, he was a mere 6 months old.  The shelter was overloaded with cats, and they were literally giving them away.  We looked and looked and looked at the sea of felines, and were debating about who to adopt.  No one was tugging at my heart strings in particular.

Strrrrretch...

Oh, I give up.  This is comfy enough.

I hardly noticed the cages sitting in the hallway where we were discussing.  Suddenly I felt a little paw claw my behind.  There was our little orange boy.  He was stretching out his paws as if to say, "hey.  What about me?  I'm super cute."  Right then and there, he chose me.  It was destiny.

The rest is history.

He and I had a special bond.  Shortly after we adopted Jones, my other cat Pip (an indoor cat) somehow got outside and never came back.  I was heartbroken.  Pip lived with us while we were stationed overseas and came all the way home to the states from England with us. He was my first kitty baby.

But Jones helped me get through it.  Every night he'd make muffins on my bed and curl up at my feet.  He let me know he was there to love.

Camouflage Jones

Jones was a funny little guy.  He had the tiniest ears I'd ever seen on a cat (we always joked that they never grew in,) as well as the longest tail and legs.  He had a baby kitten meow which he seldom let out, except when he wanted to go tromping around the neighborhood in the wee hours of the morning (but to no avail.)  He'd stretch out and whatever position he landed in, that's where he'd stay.

He LOVED the snow.

He loved our dog Francis.  He was often found curled up next to Francis in the dog bed.

He really loved Peppermint the cat.  Peppers and I don't have the most lovey dovey relationship, he saves that for Dad and the girls.  It's okay though.  Jones gave me more than enough snuggles.

Love at first sight...

Mr. Jones didn't mind being carried around like a baby and being kissed constantly.  He was a rag doll and a lover boy, but only for me.  The kids would always cry about Jones not letting them hold him.  I secretly loved that he was mine all mine!  Bad Mommy.

Jones got sick with an autoimmune disorder that affected his red blood cell production and caused his rapid demise.  We tried to treat it, but he was just too sick.  The night before he died, he pawed at my face just like the first time we met at the shelter.  I knew it was goodbye.

Farewell buddy.  You were such a blessing and a wonderful companion.  Your life was cut way too short.  I hope kitty heaven is full of mice and birds to catch, canned tuna and muffin-making blankets.  I miss you lots.  Rest in Peace, little friend.