We may have made a mistake in not letting Corny witness the very end. Just before Apple gave his last fight for life, he crawled over to Corn Bread and wrapped his arms around him in a big hug. When we realized he was having another painful episode, I pulled Corn Bread away and removed him to the bathroom while we worked to help Jack and held out hope that he might still make it. We didn't let Corn Bread see him after he died. Now I'm afraid he thinks we just left him behind.
In leaving, we left the old things they shared - litter box, beds, chairs, etc... and replaced them with all new, just to not have the constant reminders for him. Corn Bread has been a wet mop, or constantly looking in every drawer, bag, corner, crevice, and wailing out in unbearable cries for Apple Jack.
He's not a cat that can function by himself, and his grief supercedes ours which is tragic enough so I found him two new friends - two 8 week old, black tabby kittens that we've named Sugar Britches and Moonshine. This is going to take a while. The kittens are adjusting marvelously but Corn Bread is growling and hissing - perpetual anger still beats eternal sadness and unconsolable grief.
I had mentioned to Bonnie the day after Apple Jack died that I wished we could get a "do-over". That I wished that Apple Jack would re-incarnate in the body of another being and that he might come back to us one day in another form. She looked at me somewhat surprised and said that just the instant before he left his body she had told God that she wished he could have a new healthy body, and in that instant he left us. Bonnie had always regretted that we didn't also take Apple Jacks brother when he was a baby (we got Apple & Corney on the same day but from two different litters). I didn't think we could manage 3 and Corn Bread was so weak I didn't think he would survive with 2 strong brothers. Apple Jack's brother died a few months later, a fact we were first made aware of when his ghost arrived at our house to check up on him. He checked out his toys, his kitty condo, his home, and took a ride in his swing, gave a satisfying nod and left. Apple Jack was sad and lost for about 3 days before he bounced back from the apparitional visit. While Bonnie has mentioned over and over her regret of not taking his brother when they were kittens, I always thought it was the best decision.
I laid down to sleep that night, and Apple Jack said to me, "Don't regret what became of my body after my death. It was a painful body for me and I needed a new one." I cried tears of releif and realized that I had missed the signs. That he had actually been gradually sick for a couple of years, since he first began having kidney problems when we were in San Diego. He had grown mellow but I had thought he was growing up and mellowing with his maturity. He wasn't playful like he had been but I thought it was his personality - he was always my sophisticated gentleman cat. Social, well mannered, charming, and the quintessential ambassador. Corn Bread had never lost his baby playfulness but often hid it from Apple Jack. He had been too weak and too much in gradual discomfort, then pain to play the way he would have liked. He was skinny and we thought he was vain or just wanted to be able to shimmy into small spaces, but his body couldn't process food the way it should. In the last few weeks his habits had changed - drinking from the toilet, or only accepting bottled water. What I thought was a quirky and amusing behavioral change was a signal of a more serious health issue. And my great regret is that I didn't know enough. He hid his pain, perhaps because he and his brother had been adopted as kittens and returned after having visited a vet and recieving their shots. Perhaps the vet told the adoptive parent something they failed to convey to us. I would have taken him anyway. I couldn't have possibly loved him more but I would have never loved him less.
So in dealing with our own grief, and Corn Bread's this week, we made the decision to get him a playmate and quick, lest he die of grief. And the very practical concern that he can't be left alone for even a moment or he wails and cries like tornado siren on auto pilot. Kittens may be a dime a dozen but they go quick (a fact we learned the last time) and every call was another "sold out". I ran across the photo of a face that beckoned a familar spirit but it was at the bottom of the list and no doubt NOT a chance. I took a chance anyway, and just as I did with Apple Jack, I had the stroke of luck of a kitten promised but never retrieved. Even better, he has a matching brother.
Could it be? Could it be that God answered our prayer and let these two spirits inhabit two healthy bodies, and returned them to our family for a long healthy life. I don't know. I'm afraid to hope too much. I miss him inconsolably. I don't know them well enough yet to say and I'm afraid to guess but I have hope. Whoever they are we will find in our hearts unconditional love for them - as soon as we can convince Corn Bread to quit growling and hissing at both them and us. He's not pleased but he's too pissed off to be depressed right now. The last little piece of Jack he can cling to is the top of Bonnie's suticase which he used as his throne. Corn Bread now lies on it all day depressed, and I often join him in unconsolable tears. Today he lies on it and growls at kittens.
Oddly, Sugar Britches hopped up on the bed when Bonnie tickled her fingers on the mattress and called "Apple Jack", and all of the toys he plays with are Apple's. Perhaps part of Corn Bread's present anger.
Dear God, I need a do-over. I didn't get to love him long enough.
In leaving, we left the old things they shared - litter box, beds, chairs, etc... and replaced them with all new, just to not have the constant reminders for him. Corn Bread has been a wet mop, or constantly looking in every drawer, bag, corner, crevice, and wailing out in unbearable cries for Apple Jack.
He's not a cat that can function by himself, and his grief supercedes ours which is tragic enough so I found him two new friends - two 8 week old, black tabby kittens that we've named Sugar Britches and Moonshine. This is going to take a while. The kittens are adjusting marvelously but Corn Bread is growling and hissing - perpetual anger still beats eternal sadness and unconsolable grief.
I had mentioned to Bonnie the day after Apple Jack died that I wished we could get a "do-over". That I wished that Apple Jack would re-incarnate in the body of another being and that he might come back to us one day in another form. She looked at me somewhat surprised and said that just the instant before he left his body she had told God that she wished he could have a new healthy body, and in that instant he left us. Bonnie had always regretted that we didn't also take Apple Jacks brother when he was a baby (we got Apple & Corney on the same day but from two different litters). I didn't think we could manage 3 and Corn Bread was so weak I didn't think he would survive with 2 strong brothers. Apple Jack's brother died a few months later, a fact we were first made aware of when his ghost arrived at our house to check up on him. He checked out his toys, his kitty condo, his home, and took a ride in his swing, gave a satisfying nod and left. Apple Jack was sad and lost for about 3 days before he bounced back from the apparitional visit. While Bonnie has mentioned over and over her regret of not taking his brother when they were kittens, I always thought it was the best decision.
I laid down to sleep that night, and Apple Jack said to me, "Don't regret what became of my body after my death. It was a painful body for me and I needed a new one." I cried tears of releif and realized that I had missed the signs. That he had actually been gradually sick for a couple of years, since he first began having kidney problems when we were in San Diego. He had grown mellow but I had thought he was growing up and mellowing with his maturity. He wasn't playful like he had been but I thought it was his personality - he was always my sophisticated gentleman cat. Social, well mannered, charming, and the quintessential ambassador. Corn Bread had never lost his baby playfulness but often hid it from Apple Jack. He had been too weak and too much in gradual discomfort, then pain to play the way he would have liked. He was skinny and we thought he was vain or just wanted to be able to shimmy into small spaces, but his body couldn't process food the way it should. In the last few weeks his habits had changed - drinking from the toilet, or only accepting bottled water. What I thought was a quirky and amusing behavioral change was a signal of a more serious health issue. And my great regret is that I didn't know enough. He hid his pain, perhaps because he and his brother had been adopted as kittens and returned after having visited a vet and recieving their shots. Perhaps the vet told the adoptive parent something they failed to convey to us. I would have taken him anyway. I couldn't have possibly loved him more but I would have never loved him less.
So in dealing with our own grief, and Corn Bread's this week, we made the decision to get him a playmate and quick, lest he die of grief. And the very practical concern that he can't be left alone for even a moment or he wails and cries like tornado siren on auto pilot. Kittens may be a dime a dozen but they go quick (a fact we learned the last time) and every call was another "sold out". I ran across the photo of a face that beckoned a familar spirit but it was at the bottom of the list and no doubt NOT a chance. I took a chance anyway, and just as I did with Apple Jack, I had the stroke of luck of a kitten promised but never retrieved. Even better, he has a matching brother.
Could it be? Could it be that God answered our prayer and let these two spirits inhabit two healthy bodies, and returned them to our family for a long healthy life. I don't know. I'm afraid to hope too much. I miss him inconsolably. I don't know them well enough yet to say and I'm afraid to guess but I have hope. Whoever they are we will find in our hearts unconditional love for them - as soon as we can convince Corn Bread to quit growling and hissing at both them and us. He's not pleased but he's too pissed off to be depressed right now. The last little piece of Jack he can cling to is the top of Bonnie's suticase which he used as his throne. Corn Bread now lies on it all day depressed, and I often join him in unconsolable tears. Today he lies on it and growls at kittens.
Oddly, Sugar Britches hopped up on the bed when Bonnie tickled her fingers on the mattress and called "Apple Jack", and all of the toys he plays with are Apple's. Perhaps part of Corn Bread's present anger.
Dear God, I need a do-over. I didn't get to love him long enough.
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:-( I'm so, so sad for the loss of your precious kitty. I know he's in cat heaven climbing tree and having fun. xo (((hugs)))
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