Young lass Jaz

All of these pictures are from when she was between a yr and 2 years old.

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In the beginning…

There was a squirrely little munchkin, filthy as one could imagine being born on the streets…

Jadzia was a filthy, oily, scared mess.

I loved her the moment I laid eyes on her. She was so special. She didn’t just complete a family, she completed her brother. They were meant to be together.

I never thought I’d see the day when there was ONLY Curzon. Honestly, I truly thought he’d go first. He’s always been the advanced scout. I guess the Bridge needed a Queen.

I still don’t understand it. She was a happy, healthy lass a month ago and now she’s gone.

She did her very best to go out the way she came into my life, hooked to me, snuggled and loved.

Every time I try to do a from-the-beginning memorial, I just CAN’T. I am sorry. I guess I’ll just have to do random pics and commentaries. It’s so hard to comprehend the loss.

No Queen to welcome me home from work.

No Queen, claws in mattress, joining us in bed at night, making sure daddy gets to sleep.

There’s nothing right about this. NOTHING.

I’d started fundraisers, begged for money, spent every last dime, not eaten for a week… anything, and I do mean ANYTHING, if it meant giving her a fighting shot at thriving again. But there just wasn’t much hope of having a happy and healthy Jadzia and a high probability of a brief but miserable existence.

Part of being a parent is knowing when to let go. This is true no matter what, albeit in different forms for different species. I do hope you all can forgive the scatteredness of the posts and of my thought processes for now. I have a lot going on already and losing Jaz has made focusing on the rest a little more difficult to say the least.

I promise you this. Curzon’s life will continue on as long as humanely possible, as normal as possible. And I promise everyone he will get every last hug and kiss ya’ll send!

HRH Queen Jadzia

Everyone loved her. She had a way… she was VERY careful about who she let in, human-wise. Many people, even very good people, never got more than a glimpse of her because she was so skiddish. But those who did fell in love with her. Well except one, bahahahahaha. But that wasn’t her choice (he walked up to her while I had her outside and I STRUGGLED to keep a hold of her to keep her from attacking the guy) and he was not a good person (even our neighbor dog Dakota, who loves everyone, growled and barked at him too). Feisty right to the end… as weak as she was, her last carrier trip was when she decided to put up a fight. 

I couldn’t even bring in the carrier that night, it sat, unassembled, on the front passenger seat of my van. It was hard enough to bring myself inside and face a single-cat house. It only got brought in the next morning because I needed the seat, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to put it together until I absolutely have to. 

I plan to take Curzon with me to pick her up, but that will depend on his mood and condition. I wish I could say he’s alright – he is FOR NOW – I just don’t know how he’s going to manage long term. He is more delicate than she was (until the end), but I also know he is a fighter. By any measure, he shouldn’t have gotten anywhere close to this far. How he survived kittenhood I’m not so sure even though it was me that nursed him through it long enough for daddy to come along and make it all better. 

So Curzon calls the shots from here on out. I hope he can hold out and be able to hit 20, but I will not force the issue. I promise you this. I will give him every chance to fight I gave Nimbus, but I will not make him suffer any more than Jadzia did. A part of me feels like I didn’t give Jadzia enough of a chance, but reality is much more clear than the emotions of my heart. She was WAY more sick than anyone knew. Should I have asked for the bloodwork 2 weeks ago? Maybe. Maybe we’d found the mass then. But then I’d had to go to work right after instead of having a day to process and grieve. And I got to see her WANT to fight… she was so bouncy that night after I brought her home from the ER. She made sure she left her mark – my thumb is still healing from her bite right where the skin meets the bottom of the nail LOL – but the mark she left on my soul and heart will never go away, just as Nimbus’ hasn’t. 

She lived well beyond what the “books” say the “typical” street cat and “large breed” cats do. But numbers don’t mean crap. She had sixteen wonderful years. Fortunately she was only sick for a few weeks, save for the brief illness she got as a kitten because she ate the pine needles off the tree I didn’t want but was brought in anyways. Fortunately the tough ladycat in her was already fully prepared to unleash itself, and she was better in no time flat once the nausea was gone. 

There will be more pics to come, in time. Just not now. 

My beloved Queen, may the Boy be as gentle with you now as he was when he was your little baby, and may you find love in my mom’s arms. For it is not a goodbye, but a see you soon. And while the tears pour now, in time baby they will give way to the laughs and joy that you brought us while you were here. You will always be welcome here, but please, don’t make your brother meow at walls like the boy did to you. Lol

Carry On Queen

In case anyone here hasn’t seen Facebook… I do apologize for taking almost 36 hours to post…

RIP Her Royal Highness Queen Jadzia of Iowa

September 1, 2001 – January 14, 2018 

She passed away gently in my arms looking into me as her favorite (and brand new) vet sent her on her final nap. 

Yes I’m torn apart, in more ways than one. As many of you know I always expected her brother to go first. He’s the one with the health problems, frailty and started life much harder. But cancer is an evil thief in the night, sneaking in and stealing the best of souls right from under us. I can’t say definitively that it WAS cancer (I wasn’t about to spend a LOT of money to confirm the diagnosis when in reality it didn’t matter, the outcome was the same), but she DID have a mass on her bladder, and she did take a downhill turn fast, and no matter what we did for the symptoms she presented, she kept getting weaker and weaker. Her thyroid was in great condition (too bad I couldn’t trade the twins’ thyroids… LOL) as were her kidneys, which ruled out kidney disease. But the proteins that show issues with the intestines were off, and while it could be an infection, there was no real good prognosis even if we tried to pump that out. We both know there was something else lurking making her body too frail to fight. With the mass on the bladder, there is little doubt it was cancer that was hiding from every vet until her body couldn’t hide it anymore. She lost half a pound in a week, if not more. She could barely support her own weight, her breathing was more and more labored, keeping her eyes open more and more difficult. She was weak and I was not about to torture her in a selfish attempt to keep her with me for what, at best, would have been a miserable month for her. The vet, who fell in love with her at first sight, with cracking voice, even said he highly doubted she’d stay out of the hospital for a week no matter what he did. He was prepared if I said go for it to go for it but we both agreed it wasn’t fair to her to put her through it all when she was too weak to fight herself. I wish I had better options, a better chance. But when the chances of hitting the lottery and the chances the Queen could come out of it with any decent quality of life are about the same, I couldn’t rationalize putting her through it. It was obvious looking in her eyes, as weak as they were, that she was done. The only time she opened them more than a squint was when I picked her up but it was obvious even that was painful for her. She wouldn’t squirm. Not even when I gave her a bunch of kisses on the nose (and y’all know she hated that normally LOL) would she even flinch. This was not a decision I made on my own nor was it made lightly. It was the only right and proper outcome though.

She should be home in a week or so, and as soon as I’m emotionally able, I will put her ashes with her son’s. 

I am struggling to even write this, so if I make mistakes, I’m sorry. I know you all understand tho.

There will be tribute posts forthcoming, though how soon, I do not know. It could start in 10 minutes when I get my composure, it might take days. I don’t know. It will come though. I know I did Nimbus’ so much sooner, but in a sad way, I was more prepared for that. We’d been fighting for his life for so much longer. Jadzia was happy and bouncy just a month ago and now she’s gone, stolen from me by an evil devil that has no mercy for any gentle soul.

So I leave you with this.

Kiss your kitties, hold them, love them, torture them with kisses. Because no matter how healthy they are, they could be taken from you tomorrow. You never know.

AND FUCK YOU CANCER. I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU EXTERMINATED FROM THE SURFACE OF THIS PLANET.
TSB

And for those of you who are worried about Curzon, so far he is ok. Time will tell. He loved his sister to the end, even though he didn’t act like it. But I think he knew long before I did that she was sicker than she let on.

All purrs for the boy would be greatly appreciated.