A Tribute to Mr. Jazz – The Dignity of Life and Death and Finding the Beauty in Letting Go
The thing with inevitability is that no matter how many wishes upon a star, you cannot stop what is meant to be and I now find myself, a born writer, in stunned silence with no words to adequately convey both the crushing loss, yet the sobering relief of letting my beloved Mr. Jazz finally pass to his place on the Rainbow Bridge this past Wednesday.
On the surface you might not even know it, but upon closer inspection, every nook and cranny looks like a cat infirmary. Pill bottles, syringes, pee pads, disinfecting wash, special cat foods, pain medication, blankets in every corner, and more. But, the fact is, after a litany of blood tests, x-rays and endless examinations with no conclusive evidence in sight, and despite the mountains of cat paraphernalia dedicated to prolonging the life of our beautiful 15 year old boy, Mr. Jazz, he was dying.
We, of course, did not immediately know this and made it our mission, as if somehow our love and perseverance could will him back to his original healthy body weight and his younger days of life. We ran the gamut to assist – regular injections of fluids in his body, pills to stimulate his appetite, and, of course, my desperate and obsessive effort to find something to entice him to eat such as baby food, chicken broth, liver, cheese, specialty cat milks, turkey breast, tuna, and every and any brand of cat food on the market. He wanted none of it, to the point he was losing weight at such alarming levels that we were forced to bring him back to the vet to be taught how to force feed him with a syringe to bulk up his weight.
This photo was taken several years ago and even in his younger days, Jazz always had a dignified air about him.
You would think that one frail cat versus one very stubborn and determined human would be an easy victory for the human, but that was hardly the case. Jazz became completely angry, depressed, and so desperate to get away from me that he would run and hide every time he saw me. I remained diligent and did my best to nourish him, but the eating victories were few and far between. This battle went on for weeks until one morning when I was getting ready for work and noticed a big bubble protruding from his throat. I woke Dan up in a complete panic, certain my time with Jazz would be reduced to minutes and we rushed him to the vet. She calmly drained the protrusion and broke the news to Dan and I, “You will need to make a decision very soon, as we don’t want to see a cat needlessly suffering.”
Dan and I brought Jazz home and made a promise to one another – above all else, and despite how hard the decision would be, Jazz deserved his dignity and we were not going to subject him to further tests, tubes, pills, syringes, or anything else. We were going love him as much as we could and enjoy whatever time with him we would be blessed to have. That being said, it was like a mini-miracle was given to us. Jazz seemed to intuitively know it was up to him and he began to eat on his own to the point he was asking for “snacks” all day and night long which we happily obliged and let’s just say that I was “cautiously overjoyed.”
While always beautiful to me, you can see the effects of age and illness on Jazz in this picture that was taken last month.
We were given three more glorious months with Jazz who also seemed to sense the finality of time. He would drape his body on mine like days of old when we were on the couch and give me a bear hug as if to reassure me that he knew every day he had with us was a precious gift on loan. Dan and I lavished him with kind words, love, and extra petting and for a brief moment, time just stood still for us all. That was, until last week when everything began to change and we knew it was over. Jazz became incontinent and would take to slumbering for extended periods of time in very odd places. He was having trouble walking and took what would be his last bite of solid food and no amount of pleading, begging, crying, or cajoling would get him to eat. He began to nest and I knew he was trying to find a final resting place.
I put comfortable blankets all over the house for him to lie on – jumping on the couch or bed was no longer an option and I spent the entire week by his side at night, petting him for hours, until I knew he wanted me to leave so he could wander off without me watching him find a place to sleep through the night. He sensed that our time together at night was important and so did Harley. One night was especially difficult. I knew Jazz was laboring and she came to lie on the blanket next to us. I tried to shoo her away, but she got vocally agitated with me and pressed the warm girth of her body into his. I realized she was offering him her comfort and I let her stay with us. She never once moved and I remain in awe of her compassion towards him. Actually, all of the cats have been extraordinarily in tune with the emotion of the house and I don’t know what I would have done without all of their support.
On Tuesday night, I went to bed paralyzed with fear as to what I would find in the morning. Jazz was more restless than usual and he did not want me by his side for long. While it pained me immensely, I allowed myself to leave him be and respected his instinct to be alone. When I got up to go to bed, Harley was again by his side. When I woke up early Wednesday morning, I instantly looked for him and could not find him. I searched for over an hour and finally woke Dan to help me. He found Jazz under the TV stand and he hugged me and with a heavy heart told me Jazz was no longer in pain and was gone.
As Dan and I held one another, Peanut was on the floor, looking at the spot where Jazz was, imploring Dan to look again. He then told me, “Deb, Jazz is still with us.” He was barely breathing and could not lift his head. We had prayed he would pass peacefully in the night, but for whatever reason, we were given the precious gift of being able to share his final moments with us. Dan picked Jazz up and put him on a towel and brought him into the guest bedroom where I laid down next to him on the bed. I grabbed a blanket and wrapped myself around him to offer soothing words of love and comfort and pet his head as gently as I could. Kizmet and Harley lay at my feet and all of us spent the entire morning with Jazz. We did not move an inch until it was time to go. Dan had made the appointment for the afternoon – we knew the final gift we had to give Jazz was finding the grace, beauty, and dignity of letting him go.
Perhaps one of the most poignant, bittersweet, and meaningful pictures I will ever have. This is me in my final moments with Jazz as I am surrounded by Kizmet and Harley who seem to intuitively sense the passing of life.
At Dan’s suggestion, we placed Jazz in a beautiful wicker basket to carry him to the vet. It fit his body perfectly and he looked so peaceful resting in it. Once we got there, our vet talked to us for a few minutes and then she dimmed the lights. It was actually quite beautiful and serene. Dan and I held one another as we comforted Jazz in his final minutes and we left with the knowledge that he was so very loved and cherished and that he did not have to suffer any more. It obviously hurts deeply that we had to make that choice, but we knew it was the right one because when it comes to a pet, despite the wish to never have to let them physically go, one has to be gently reminded it is about the quality of their life, not the quantity of years that it needs to be measured by.
And even with the remaining gang of seven – Zee, Zoey, Mia, Peanut, Harley, Rolz, and Kizmet – there is still the loneliness of not having the eight. I will miss him so much – he was a part of my life for as long as I can remember and was one of the kindest, sweet tempered and docile cats I have ever known. Never once did he start a fight with the other cats or cause any trouble. He was not a cat prone to jumping on the counter, nor did he break things. He did not play with DaBird or laser pens. He was a lover, pure and simple, and the greatest joy he ever got was those blessed moments when he could drape his body over mine and give me a big ole bear hug with his beautiful, fluffy paws.
Rest in peace my darling boy… we love you so much…
Mario’s mom here – oh Deb, my heart is breaking for you. I’m so very sorry for your loss. We pet parents know how difficult this time is. May you find some small peace and comfort knowing you showed your final act of kindness and love by helping Jazz pass. Hugs!
Thank you Mario’s Mom. I so appreciate your condolences and hugs of support.
What a beautiful tribute to Mr Jazz. My heart breaks for you as I lost my 21 yr old on Monday. My thoughts are with you. Hugs and purrs.
Oh Sue, I am so, so sorry about the loss of your cat and my heart aches for you as well. I know this post must have been very difficult for you to get through and I appreciate you taking the time to comment and offer your hugs and purrs.
I am weeping for you and Jazz but also for myself. Your tribute sounds so familiar to me~ every time one of our loved cats leaves us part of our hearts go with them. I could not bear it if I did not believe that when I come to Heaven, my beloved cats will be there with purrs.
Alice – Surely since our beloved pets never leave our hearts and souls, it would lead one to believe they will be with us in Heaven as well. Thank you for your heartfelt tears.
Paying my respects to Jazz. He was a lucky mancat to have such a loving family for so many years. Sending comforting purrz to you and Dan and the rest of the Zee & Zoey clan. This has been a tough week, as I’ve lost at least 4 of my good furrends to the RB. Jazz is in good and loving company.
CK – It sure has been a rough week and I am sorry for the loss of all of your furfriends. Thank you for your comforting purrs – we truly appreciate them.
So sorry to hear of the loss of you lovely Jazz like you I now have an old cat that is quite ill but she still has some time with us but I am dreading the end and having to make that final decision I think the other 3 I have will miss her so much too
Valerie – I pray your time with your cat will be long and healthy. Thank you so much for your support.
A beautiful tribute to a wonderful boy…..Our deepest sympathy to you and your family. You gave him that one last most important gift of all–the gift of releasing him from pain. All the good memories will be safe in your heart until you meet again.
Amber – such kind and sweet words. Thank you so much for your sympathies.
Seeing you with Jazz and his fur friends in support made me all leaky eyed and yet oddly comforted to know he was loved until the very end. Sending you all hugs of support our love.
Layla – I will never look at that image without getting weepy myself, but I truly feel blessed at the same time to forever have my last moments with him recorded in time. He was surrounded by warmth and love and that’s all you can hope for. xoxo
We did not know of handsome Mr Jazz until today and wished we were meeting him in happier circumstances. We know how hard it is to take on the battle of the inevitable and how hard it is to let go and give the final and kindest gift. We are so sorry, he must have had a wonderful life with you. We send you love and rumbly purrs.
Gerry, Mungo & The Ape xx
Everycat – since you did not know Mr. Jazz, we find it especially kind of you to drop by to share your condolences. Thank you so much for the support and compassion.
Deb I think much of what you’ve written, I too have expressed in my own way. On August 12th I lost my beloved muse and best friend, Abby. Nearly everything you described I experienced, the only difference was that my journey was very brief. Abby only had two weeks after she was diagnosed with Hyper-T, HCM and CRF. I can only offer up how deeply sorry I am and that I can categorically empathize with your emotions and feelings.We also have four other cats in our home, but the loneliness and sadness is permeating in our home. Abby was our leader and my heart and soul kitty. You’ve written with such beauty about the loss of your Jazz. What a beautiful boy he was, so gorgeous. Like you, I saw, afterwards the ravages of illness, but I tried to shield those images from my blog, but I have them in my files and looking at them make me understand how sick she really was. There are no magical words that will help your aching heart, because no matter where you look, you will see your beautiful Jazz. You did the most compassionate and selfless act we can offer our felines and that was releasing him from his suffering. You can rest knowing that you gave him such love and care his entire life and that he returned that love back to you hundred fold. We all know, that our felines have a far shorter life span than our own, but we love them fully and completely, knowing our hearts will break, but we receive far more than the suffering we feel we when we lose them. I hope that healing will come sooner rather than later to you and Jazz’s Dad. I will keep you in my prayers. Knowing all to well the emptiness of loss in your heart.
xoxoxox
Manxmnews – I cannot possibly respond to this in full, as I am walking down the same path as you and feel the heartache of your words so sharply. I also have pictures of the ravages of illness and have many a graphic image in my mind of what it was like as I tried to valiantly to sustain my Jazz’s life. Those images can remain private, as there is no point in reliving a story that so many of us know only too well. All we can do is be thankful the suffering is over and be content to carry memories of better times. I am so sorry you lost your beloved Abby and I truly realize I was given a gift with Jazz that I will forever cherish. xoxoxo
Hugs to you and Dad. Such a beautiful tribute to Mr. Jazz. He was a very lucky cat to have spent fifteen years with you. Harley is such a sweet girl to comfort both you and Jazz. You truly bring out the best in cats. 🙂
Thank you so much, Crystal. Jazz loved you dearly and I am so glad you were in his life. Harley really is a doll and I think you have it in reverse… the cats bring out the best in me!! xoxoxox
What a beautiful and heart-wrenching tribute. I am so sorry for your loss.
Thank you for your condolences, Rikki.
Rest in peace, Mr. Jazz.
Thank you RumpyDog!
Deb, I’m so, so sorry….my heart is breaking as I read your beautiful words. You and Dan are such amazing and loving kitty parents, guardians, partners… Mr. Jazz had a wonderful life filled with love and he will be with you forever.
Sending you love and hugs and purrs…sending you part of my heart to comfort you.
xo,
GG
Glogirly and Katie – thank you so much for the love, hugs, and purrs – the whole Zee and Zoey family greatly appreciates it.
Indeed a wonderful tribute to a life lived well, happy, safe and so loved…see you at The Bridge Mr. Jazz
Yes, he truly was happy, safe, and so well loved. Thank you for the comforting words, Savannah.
Deb, what a beautiful post. I can imagine every motion you made–meaning I can imagine doing all of those things for any of my kitties. I will not pretend to know your personal sadness, but I can with certainty say that I too have experienced the overwhelming emptiness of being without a beloved feline. I just said goodbye to our family home of almost 30 years. 4 of our cats are buried in the back yard. I knelt at their graves and cried, and told them to run free in that yard forever. All I can remember as I walked by those trees is how they could so confidently scale them, and all the critters they would bring to us as gifts. While your heart does open for other kitties–as you of all people know so well, it also never fully closes down when one moves to the next plane.
Mr Jazz was such a beautiful, dignified kitty. He loved his life with you–and you know that deep in the recesses of your heart. He is a part of your extraordinary story, one that you so lovingly shared with readers in your book. It’s my hope that in his honor, we will all do something special to help kitties who need us.
May the grace of the universe wrap you in its care and may all of that love and wonderfulness outweigh your sorrow over the course of time. He was so very lucky to have been a part of your family. Love and peace….Laura
Laura – when you are surrounded on a daily basis by such ardent animal lovers, very few of us don’t yet know of the overwhelming heartache and sadness of losing a beloved pet. As far as Mr. Jazz, he was a wonderful boy and I am so happy you got to know him a bit better through my book. I do hope you will be okay – saying goodbye to a 30 year relationship cannot be easy and my heart grieves with you as you said goodbye to your cats at their graves. Your kind words and compassion mean the world to me. xoxox
The most wonderful gift you can give a hurting older cat is to send her or him off to the Bridge. I know it hurts. Truly I do. I’ve sent three cats Over the Bridge. And one dog (who didn’t wait for the family, he managed to die on his own terms first) All very hard to bear. The last one was not too long ago.
The most wonderful gift they can give back? The warm place in your heart. It will always be there to cheer you when you need it.
Sit quietly and they will visit you. On their own terms. All three of my cats have. You’ll feel that paw, purr, sweet body, what ever they feel is special to you. And they will be happy and without pain. And giving you even more love.
Angel brandi has sent Quinn to me. She knew I didn’t want to be unhappy and sad and alone. So I bravely fell in love with Quinnie. And more and more each day. Mr. Jazz might do the same for you. Have faith something good will happen and it will be because of your sweet one.
He’s already sent you smiles. Am I right?
Carol
Oh yes, Quinn, Carol, and Catitude – I have already felt his presence a hundred times over and I know that one day I will open my heart to another special feline who needs a warm, safe, and loving forever home. Thank you for your understanding and compassion.
Oh Deb, what a wonderful tribute to such a beautiful boy. I must have been saving these tears for you and your precious Jazz…I can’t seem to get a grip. Sending hugs and healing to you and Dan♥
Oh Toni… I did not mean to make you cry, but sometimes it is a cathartic cleansing of the soul. Thank you for your hugs and healing thoughts for Dan and I.
We are so so very sorry to hear that you have lost Jazz. But what a beautiful tribute.We spent a full day (well more but the last one) saying good bye to Miss Georgia who snoozed on the bed next to the woman where she read and talked to her and petted her until she crossed the Bridge later that evening, lying on the Woman’s chest.
Chey – while it is sad, what a touching way for the woman to spend time with Miss Georgia until she crossed to the Bridge. What a wonderful gift. Thank you for the condolences.
Mr.Jazz,what a lover.You and Dan gave him such a beautiful life.
He sure was a lover, Stephanie, and he really did have a beautiful life!
….. and St Francis said, “Come little one, there is nothing more I can do for
you here, don’t be afraid”……and St Francis gently picked up Jazz and carried him into the kingdom of heaven…..when the little cat looked around, he realized everything St Francis told him on his journey was true….heaven was beautiful beyond what mere words could express…..
…… and Jazz saw there was no pain, suffering, fear, sickness, hunger, thirst or sorrow, until he looked down and saw the family and friends he’d left behind. ……and for a very brief moment, the little cat too, was filled with sorrow.
Then St Francis bestowed Jazz with a set of gossamer wings and said, “Use them to return to your family, when their need is the greatest, as nothing can separate your bond of love. Hold each other in your hearts and your memories, until you are reunited again at heaven’s door.”
and when the little cat tried on his wings, he knew nothing was impossible…… when there is….love
Oh tabbies…. how you pull at the heartstrings. Thank you for such a fitting and beautiful sentiment for our beloved Jazz. We know you had a soft spot for the dear boy and I do hope he and Sauce and telling family stories as we speak. Thank you a million times over for your love and support. xoxox