We recently had to say goodbye to our cat whom my stepdaughter named Skippyjon Jones after the book series about a Siamese cat who thinks he is a chihuahua. It was the book series my stepdaughter was interested in at the age of 8, but I always thought it was a brilliant name for him because he was part Siamese. We adopted him from the local pound, and the day I went to find a cat (he would be Claudia’s birthday present), there were only two choices of kittens – his brother who very much looked Siamese in color and Skippy. Skippy was black, but his face definitely had that Siamese shape to it. I chose Skippy because Claudia already had a Siamese cat at her mom’s house. So Skippy came home with us.
He was Claudia’s cat, but because she was not with us most of the time, I became “his person.” He was actually a really great cat. He liked adults a lot. Little children he steered clear of. They moved too quickly and were really loud, a combination Skippy did not appreciate. He would lay on any warm body’s lap he could find. Often in the evenings after the kids were in bed, he would curl up on either mine or Joey’s lap while we watched TV.
He was 12.5 years old when we said goodbye to him last month. Skippy had been in kidney failure for over a year so we knew it would likely happen sometime this year, but we still were not ready when that time came. Can you ever really be ready? The boys were extremely sad, and the 3 days leading up to Skippy leaving us were a mixture of lots of snuggles and lots of tears. Gus had formed a bond with Skippy over the last couple of years as he became less boisterous and loud when around Skippy. Skippy would come and lay beside Gus on the couch in the mornings when Gus woke up before anyone else. Skippy was slower to warm up to Rayf, but that is because Rayf is still in the loud and boisterous stage. However, over the last year or so, there had been moments of Skippy sitting near Rayf, and he allowed Rayf to pet him regularly.
The boys wanted a funeral for Skippy, and Joey and I 100% agreed. This was the first loss for both boys. We wanted them to learn about grief and processing loss in a healthy way. So that meant talking about what they were feeling, remembering Skippy, and being thankful for the time we had with him. We had a vet service come to the house during the day while the boys were at school. I did not want Skippy’s last moments to be in fear because he was at a vet’s office and not at home where he felt secure. I was able to hold him until he breathed his last breath. My mother-in-law came over to be there with me so I would not have to be alone. The vet service, a husband and wife team, was fantastic – professional, caring, and informative about the steps that would be involved. They walked me through it and allowed me time to say goodbye. Afterwards, we laid him in a wooden box that Joey built for him. That evening, we had a little service in our backyard where we buried him.
Losing a pet is so hard. You get used to them being around, always being there. I still sometimes walk into our sunroom and see a black pillow out of the corner of my eye that for a second I think is Skippy. Then I remember he is no longer with us. He is not here, but he will always be remembered and greatly missed.
