Jane: A Tribute For A Good Cat

So today on the phone my dad told me that our cat Jane died yesterday. This is not a surprise. Jane would have been 19 in October. But I started sobbing anyway. I've been saying a special goodbye to Jane each time I've left home ever since freshman year of college, because I knew she was old and she might not be there when I came back on my next break. I last saw her the day after Christmas. I was scheduled to fly home this Thursday for a 5 day weekend. She died on Monday.

Here are two pictures of Jane that I think really give you some perspective on how long she lived. On the left is my brother Bryan with Jane in 1987. Below right is Bryan with Jane in 2004.















Jane's full name was Jane T. Cat. (The T stands for "The".) But we just called her Jane T. We adopted Jane and her littermate Lucy in January 1987. I was 5, and my brother was 4. Jane managed to outlive her sister by ten whole years, which makes her a pretty impressive cat. Isn't it strange how the way we feel about our pets can't truly be understood by anyone outside the family? And isn't it strange to wonder how they feel about us? I mean, what did Jane think? Did she remember being with us the whole way? Or was it like my mom always jokingly maintained (owing to a car accident in her youth that resulted in her disappearing for 2 days, having to have her jaw wired together, and developing a drooling problem for several years afterward), that Jane didn't really have any particular thoughts at all, besides being in the sun and an adamant love of sleeping on the dinner table ? I believe she recognized us when we came home to visit, if only because strangers usually made her run upstairs and hide under the bed. I believe she was happy with simple things.

Here are some things about Jane you might not have known. Jane never killed a mouse in her life. She was, however, an opportunistic eater of already-dead mice, since Lucy and our other cat Groucho were talented hunters. Jane liked to play with Construx. They were these plastic building toys from the 80's, sort of like Legos. The structures were held together by these square light blue connector pieces. Jane was obsessed with them. Probably up until the last week of her life, if you rolled one across the floor she would perk up and run insanely after it, bouncing her head off the wall. We always kept a couple around for her. Jane liked to sleep in people's crotches, more specifically directly between the knees. This meant if she fell asleep on your bed, you would not be able to move your legs the entire night, and when you got stiff you would eventually have to kick her. Jane did not like to have her stomach touched. It was the only time she would bite you. Jane liked to sleep on top of the computer monitor. Jane had a beige streak running down the right side of her nose; her sister Lucy had a mirror image streak on the left side. Jane had kind of a stubby tail. It was 8 inches. I know this because at some point we measured our cats' tails on a ruler. Jane's favorite spot was on her blanket on the radiator. The fur between the pads of her toes was very soft. She was pretty, with owlish yellow eyes.

When I go home the day after tomorrow, for almost the first time since I can remember, there will be no gray cat to meet me. And I am sad. Because maybe Jane wasn't a good conversationalist and didn't have any deep thoughts. But I loved her. And I think she loved us too.

Jane

1986-2005