My El Grande Lovebug

Linda Burton posting from Arkadelphia, Arkansas – Today is the first day of autumn, normally a happy time, but today, it’s not. Jack died this morning at 9:01. This may be the hardest post I’ve ever written. It was a sad day when Alex died in March, but I didn’t write about it till more than a week had passed. “I didn’t expect to have my heart broken twice in the same year,” I told the family, as I explained the events that caught us all by surprise. Yes, he was too fat. And no, he didn’t exercise much any more. All visitors this summer were charged with getting Jack to “roll over.” Dangle the play-strings across his back, count how many times he’d respond with enthusiasm. Not many; he much preferred putting his head in your lap while you stroked him. He was diagnosed with onset kidney disease in June, and we changed his diet, though his numbers weren’t that far out of line. He remained a people cat, snuggling against anyone who’d allow it. He followed me from room to room; cozy on the office sofa while I worked; taking one end of the living-room sofa while I took the other as we watched our favorite TV shows in the evening. When I got into bed at night, I’d call his name, and soon I’d hear his toenails clicking on the hardwood floor. He’d jump on the bed and start circling round, then suddenly he’d jump down again. Just like old folks. “Darn, I forgot to go to the bathroom.” He’d trot off to his litterbox and then jump up again, this time for the night. Jack never demanded anything; for the ten years of his life he was simply lovebug sweet. My big fat black cat, El Grande, someone called him once. » read more