The Final Days of Jerry Garcia Cat

It was March 2nd 2009 when I put my beloved Jerry to sleep at Sugar Grove Animal hospital. He had become sick and was in Renal Failure. He was so fluffy and furry that it was difficult to tell that he had lost weight, but one day I went to pet him and I could feel his spine. I was amazed, and feared that after 13 years it may be time to face the inevitable we face with all our pets and our loved ones. I knew when I was in my mid 20's that Jerry would live until my mid 30's and here I was suddenly in my mid 30's. The years go by so fast when you think of them in regards to time you spend with your pet.

Jerry went to the vet where I got the news I didn't want to hear, but knew one day I would; Jerry was dying. The Doctor told me he had no clue how long Jerry would last, only that his time was limited. He told me to take him home and enjoy what time we had left together.

Now I had two other cats in my family, but when Jerry came back home, all the attention went to him. He still ate, and drank and chased Daniel around the apartment, but he was slowing down. He was sleeping more, keeping to himself more.

I kept thinking to myself, "It's time", then Jerry would sort of bounce back and perk up, so I would cancel the Vet appointment I made every week, the appointment that meant I would arrive with Jerry, but I would be going home alone.

One friday evening, probably Feb 27th, I was lying on my bed watching TV. Jerry came into the room, looked up at me, and then jumped onto the bed next to me and sat down. This was not Jerry's normal behavior. He had always liked to keep to himself, but tonight he was there by my side. I slowly put my arm around him and the two of us layed there for 90 minutes on the bed, just being together.

The next morning I called the Vet and told them I wanted to bring Jerry in on monday....he was ready.

Monday February 2nd, I woke up, grabbed a Jerry Garcia T-shirt that had my scent on it and tossed it in the cat carrier. I then picked Jerry up carefully and brought him over to Daniel and Zoe so they could say goodbye.

Then I placed him in the cat carrier. He didn't fight it, he didn't meow. He was ready.

I shook nervously as I drove toward Sugar Grove, keeping the tip of my finger in the cage so that Jerry could smell me or rub against my finger, or whatever. He did nothing, but sit there waiting.

I got him to the Vet and we walked into that cold, empty, and unnerving exam room. I pulled Jerry out of the cage and wrapped him in the Jerry Garcia shirt.

The Vet came in and gave Jerry a pat on the head and scratched him behind his ears. Jerry just sat there. Then the needle came out, and I held Jerry tight as the Vet pinched the back of his skin and injected the sedative into Jerry.

Within seconds Jerry's head started to droop. The Vet told me he'd be back in ten minutes to administer the final dosage that would stop Jerry's heart.

I grabbed a white blanket and placed Jerry on the ground because he tried to stand up and couldn't maintain his composure.

He sat there motionless for a moment then vomited twice. I started to cry.

I cleaned up the vomit, and by the time I was done, Jerry's face was buried in his furry little paws. He was pretty much asleep.

I couldn't stay for the final shot, so I layed down on the ground beside him and told him how much I loved him. I put his head, but he didn't move. I hugged him, but he didn't react. But I kept on telling him how much I loved him and how great a friend he'd always been and that I'd never forget him.

I stood to leave, and as I did, Jerry looked up at me one final time. Acknowledged me, his life long friend, one last time, then buried his face back into his paws and never woke up again.

I turned to leave, but broke down in the worst tears I've ever cried. I went back to him once more and hugged him and kissed him, and whispered, "thanks."

I walked out of the exam room, and never saw my beloved Jerry ever again.

ZOE

My ex-wife and I adopted ZOE around 2006, when she was only 1.5 years old. She had already been knocked up and given birth to a litter. Zoe was adopted from an organization called RAIN. We paid very little for her, and brought her home to meet Jerry and Kitty. Zoe and Kitty hit it right off, but Jerry didn't like other cats so he would harass and basically attack her any chance he could. Carol and I moved into a condo and Zoe's personality started to develop. She seemed to be coming out of her shell. A few months prior to our move, Kitty had to be put to sleep and we adopted baby Annabelle. Zoe seemed more comfortable in the role of mother to younger cats. Jerry, as always kept his distance from the whole lot.

Zoe loved, and still does, to sit on the couch behind your head and pat it with her paws before starting to nibble at your scalp. She then nods off and snores. Over the years, contrary to several dieting attempts, Zoe has gotten fatter. It is funny to watch her waddle sometimes. Most recently she puked three times on the floor then went right back to the food dish and started eating again. When I am slowly waking from a 9 hour slumber, if Zoe is nibbling my face and purring next to me, I know the food dish is empty.

Zoe will look at you a bit cock-eyed, tilting her head ever so slightly which has caused me to believe that Zoe may be slightly retarded, or at least a bit mental. She is loving, and she is cuddly, but she is strange.

She has plenty of dandruff and endlessly sheds hair which pisses me off, but she cuddles and loves and lets me use her as a pillow for my head. She will not respond to her name being called, prompting me somtimes to wonder if she's deaf, but alas she is not becuase sometimes she will look my way when she's called.

In the end, Zoe is adorable, semi-retarded and in need of a diet and some shampoo.

Love ya Zoe.

UPDATE:  With the addition of a third cat ASHES, Zoe now spends most of her time hissing and screeching at Ashes whenever he attempts to mess with her.  She sleeps on my right while Ashes and Daniel sleep on my left. 

Daniel

Daniel was named by my ex-wife Carol after the character Daniel Jackson on Stargate. It was her favorite show. I would never have named such a lovely cat, Daniel, or even an ugly one for that matter. But the cat was gotten for her in response to the sudden death of Kitty, her cat of 8 years.

Daniel, as my photo's show, was born very small. The aemoba's living in his stomach were robbing him of to many nutrients, but we got that fixed right away and he grew. Let me tell you though, those first couple weeks were disgusting with Daniel's non stop farting and horrible diahrea.

Daniel was always my cat. He connected to me to the point where Carol wanted me to stop being nice to him or picking him up. He always wanted to be with me and not her. He must have known I was the one who bought him.

After Carol and I divorced, like any child of divorce, Daniel started acting out. He would pee and shit all over her condo. She finally gave up and gave him to me and to this day Daniel has never had a bathroom related issue.

We spend our days cuddling. Daniel likes to sit on my stomach, or my shoulder and during the cold months he can be found under the covers with me between my legs purring.

Daniel likes to chase his pink "baby" and darts from the dart gun I bought. He also likes to scrape the litter out of the litter box after he uses it, causing me lots of clean up time.

Daniel is also the type of cat who adores strangers. If he has never met you that means as soon as you sit down he will be purring in your lap.

Daniel is a gift from the Cat Gods. I love him.

He is like Zoe's son. She cares for him and cleans his ears, and he snuggles up with her and purrs. They are an inseparable pair.

Wave That White Flag Wide and High

I deserve to be admired.
I derserve to be wanted.
I deserve to be respected.
I deserve to be understood.
I deserve to be held.
I deserve to be loved.
I deserve to be accepted.

But more important than what I deserve is what I am worthy of.  I am worthy of those things, but must be patient to receive such.

The hardest thing to do is let go of someone you care about who is suffering, but it has to be done.  If not for their own good then certainly for your own good. 



Today I am sad, but each moment of sadness can and will be turned into power and awareness so that I may grow. 

I've lived a life of emotional and personal chaos.  Its a somewhat safe place but hellish place to be.  I won't live there anymore. I just won't.

ControversME!

Ok, so I've been told I am controversial and that I enjoy being so!  So what?

Now sometimes my controversy gets in the way of normal everyday activities and I must remember that I am not on stage or on the radio or being published, although I am publishing myself here.

My thoughts, jokes, opinions are not sugar coated and are not aimed at the majority.  But I do not and will not placate the moral majority in order to make them feel safe and secure while I feel muffled.

I have struggled realizing there is a time and place for my comments and jokes, etc., but who are YOU to define where the line is?  Why do I gotta worry about steeping on your toes?  Maybe you should lighten up.

Anyone who knows me knows that I have a kind and vast heart; that I'll stand up for you when everyone else has turned their backs and let you down.  People who don't know me wanna label me as angry, sad, mean, controversial.

I like being controversial.  It means my thoughts didn't come out of a cereal box.  I spend every waking moment trying to accept and understand others, even when doing so sometimes drives me to the brink.  Is it so much that I ask for the same in return?

Words are meaningless and harmless unless YOU make them harmful.  Letters assembled to form words are not real weapons although their substance can take down armies and I admit that.

That's what I like best about myself, you can say whatever you want and I will not be offended.  I will hear your thoughts and opinions and try to understand where they came from and what they mean, but I will never make you feel like you cannot speak your mind. I will never tell you not to use, "that word".

Feel free when you're around me, and if you want a little controversy then bring it on, just be ready for my response.

Days Within Me.....

There are days that lie within me where I choose to forget or hide
There are times when the last struggle forces me to want to die.
There are songs and inspiration that seem to fill the air.
If I can't or will not listen don't assume I do not care.
There are times when I need a break and times when I need to cry.
There are people I can't forget about and people passing by.
There are stories that I need to tell and memories that need to fade.
If I can't or will not abide it then there's always another day.

Sometimes we cannot live without the things we do not have.
Sometimes we need to scream and shout when something isn't there.
Sometimes I can be the very thing you need for me to be.
Then there are other times I wish too just be free.

There are times when you won't let me
and there are times I won't let you.
There are signs that we will find remose
and signs that are still to come.

If I can I will reject it
try again for another day
If I can't or won't neglect it
that doesn't mean I'll stay

I often played the safest hand,
the safest one to play.
Just so that I may
get a new deal another day...

Days within me role by one by one.
Look out here comes another one.

Tibor vs. The CIA

Well I knew one day it would happen, but did it have to happen while I was watching season 4 of True Blood?

The CIA knocked on my door asking to speak to one McGannahan Skjellyfetti. It turns out this is Tibor's real name.  He is an escaped convict from parts unknown.  He has no place of birth.  He just appeared one day. Attempts to fingerprint him are useless and he is versed in over 9000 languages both real and fake.


This is a photo of Tibor the day I dropped him off for deployment to Iraq in 2003.

Tibor used Jedi Mind Tricks to give the CIA no new information.  He said he plans on selling grilled cheese sandwhiches and patchouli at the NATO summit and has no intention of upheaving the November elections.

This is a scene from Tibor's Summer Internment Camp for kids 12 and under.

Tibor somehow convinced the CIA he isn't a threat.  I fear not only for my own safety as I write this but also for the future of this planet.  Tibor must be stopped.  I don't care that he's my adopted son.


I found this photo in Tibor's knapsack which shows him smoking and holding the head of an RPG.  He told me it was photoshopped, but I know him better.  He is planning something.  But what?

TO BE CONT.......