My First Christmas without the boo (Jabez)

 

Jabez, the cat, was born on March 20, 2000.  That year I bought my annual Christmas tree ornament at a little shop in Seaport Village, San Diego, California.  This is a picture of it, front and back.

The Story of Jabez, the Cat

Jabez was born March 20, 2000.  He was brought to the Helen Woodward Animal Shelter in San Diego, California.  On May 20, 2000, I went to the animal shelter to adopt a cat, preferably a kitten.  When I first saw Jabez he was sleeping peacefully in the arms of a stranger, a young handsome man whom had been pulled toward him in his quest for a cat for his girlfriend.  She was insistent on getting a Persian cat, but Jabez, then called Samba, by the staff at the animal shelter had settled into her boyfriend's arms while he waited for his girlfriend to choose one of the several Persian kittens that she was looking at.  As I walked through the door I saw Jabez in this guy's arms and said a little prayer to God that I really wanted that cat.  For me, it was like if I didn't get him I would not walk out of there with any other cat.  The girl friend made her decision and one of the staff took Jabez out of the guy's arms and put him back into the cage with the other kittens.  Jabez went to the food bowl to eat, and another kitten took a swipe at him and got its claw stuck in to the skin of one of Jabez's ears.  Instead of Jabez fighting back he just crouched down and meowed, while waiting for the worker to rescue  him and put him in my arms.  He cuddled into my arms and I was enamored for life.  I was certain he was a four or five month old kitten but was told his day of birth and the story of what she knew about how he came to the shelter.  It seems Jabez was the product of a tabby mix cat and some unknown wild cat that had gotten her pregnant.  The staff named him "Samba", but I named him Jabez.

My daughter was still living at home when I first brought Jabez home and she knew that I was going to get a new cat that day.  When she came home after school, or work, she asked me, "Well, did you get it?"  She didn't see Jabez at my feet.  So, I bent down and picked him up and said, "Jennifer, meet Jabez."  To which Jabez replied with a big "MEOW."  Jennifer was astonished at how beautiful and cute he was.  I think she even commented on the size of his paws.  It became like a game to see which one of us he would come to first.  One time she came home and he was sleeping peacefully next to me as I talked to an old friend on the phone.  As soon as she saw him, she quietly called him to come to her, and he got up and came right to her with me scowling at her for making him move.  It was all in good spirits though, we both loved him so much.

That first night he came to my bedside and meowed and I put my hand down to grab him to pull him into bed with me but he leaped with such power and grace that I said, out loud, "Wow!"  For a two month old kitten he was remarkable in his prowess.  My bed is pretty high off the ground and for a kitten that age to jump that height was uncommon.

I took him to the local vet and she told me that based on this teeth he was just two months old but was going to be a very big cat.  And how big did Jabez get?  He grew to eighteen inches tall, with ears that were two inches long and a tail that was twelve inches long.  At one point, he weighed over thirty pounds but I put him on a diet after finding out that he was diabetic.  He had Type I Diabetes and required twice daily shots of insulin which I administered to him until the day he died.  I even purchased a Glucometer to test his blood sugar.  He was a high maintenance kitty but he earned his keep in sweetness of spirit and companionship to me.

In a time of recovery from the death of my husband, Jabez was a comfort to my soul and a source of great pride.  He was a beautiful feline and gentle spirit.  When he was a kitten he would play a game with me when I would come home from a long day at work.  After I shut the door behind me, he would jump onto one of the dining room chairs and hide until I played what I called the "boo game."  I would play peek-a-boo with him and he would bat my face with soft paws when I would peek around the back of the chair.  This became a routine for us until I moved out of that apartment.  I lived there for five years and Jabez was four when I moved out.  I came to call him Boo in that apartment and while I had registered him as "Jabez", he knew that "Boo" also meant himself.

He wasn't very happy about the first move either.  Part of it, I'm sure, was due to the fact that my living room had been left in relative upheaval.  A couch was left standing on its side when found it wasn't going to fit into the tiny one bedroom apartment I had moved into.  Jabez kept vigil by sleeping atop the upended couch making sure he could see me sleeping in my bed.  As soon as I awoke the next morning he was all mews and meows vocalizing his discontent at the disorganization of his new home.  We settled in though and he finally got used to living in a smaller space than he was first brought into.  He also survived a move eighty miles northeast to my daughter's house.  He was in heaven in that house.  He had a big three bedroom house with a front and back yard to roam around in.  It was a struggle to keep him out of her kitchen cabinets and off her counters.  He was used to a full reign of his living quarters and like any other feline, he was curious. He became accustomed to moving but I could tell he really liked the condo I moved into in 2008.  It was as big as the first apartment I had when I first brought him home.

In that home he would regularly get on the desk when I was on the computer and basically want to sit on the keyboard in front of me.  As if to say, "Hey, you should be paying attention to me not that silly screen."  He would try to bat at the mouse on the screen but eventually learned that it was not something he could actually touch and I'm sure he never understood why he couldn't catch that little pointer.  So, in our new home I purchased in 2008, I was working at the computer and he jumped up and laid across the desk like the way he did in his first apartment and I knew he felt at home.

One thing he was good about was the litter box.  I didn't have to worry about this guy squirting around the home, he always used the litter box.  While he had numerous incidents around his litter box at the end he was still a cat you could depend on to not just go piss in a corner somewhere, or in your laundry basket.  It was only toward the end of his days that I had to start cleaning up messes outside of the litter box and that was usually vomit and never urine.  He was really sick by then.  His diabetes was still a prominent issue and he had acquired cataracts, heart disease and gall stones.

I bought him a big dog bed to sleep on and it took him a while to get used to it but the very first time I saw him sleeping on it I took a picture because he looked so sweet:

The last year or two of his life, if I didn't see him on one of the couches or laying next to me, I usually found him on his bed fast asleep:

I nursed him back to health on a number of occasions but the heart disease, cataracts and gall stones  were not something that would go away without some serious medical intervention.  I spent over one thousand dollars one time when I overdosed him on his insulin.  After that incident, I bought the Glucometer and monitored his blood sugar before giving him his insulin.  If I would be late on giving him his shot, he would come and sit by me (I was usually on the computer) and meow up at me, as if to say, hey, you forgot something.  Then I would remember, uh-oh, I forgot to give you your shot and he would lead me to the kitchen where he would wait patiently in front of the refrigerator until I administered his shot.  Then he would go back to one of his many spots he chose to chill out in or wait by the front door for me to let him out.

He didn't have to meow at me to let him out, although on occasion he would, but I always made sure I knew where he was.   If I saw he was sitting by the door,  he would turn and look and me and I would then go open the door for him to go outside.  He never stayed out long.  And would wait patiently at the door until I saw him or if I was busy in the office, he would meow, as if to say "let me in!" In the early days of our residence in the condo, he would be gone for an hour or so and I figured he was out patrolling the complex and getting his bearings.  Toward the end, he stopped "asking" to go out and instead he would lie on the back of one of the couches and look out the window.

So, while I miss him dearly, I know that his suffering has ended and if our pets really go to heaven, I will see him again.   He is in a better place now.  I will never forget the special bond we had as owner and cat.  He will always be remembered as "my boo" because even though I named him Jabez, everyone in the family called him Boo too.   There will never be another cat like Jabez.  He would often roll onto his back and chill out for a while.  A sure sign he was content.

You may wonder where I got his name.  In the Bible, 1 Corinthians 4:9-10, states:

Now Jabez was more honorable than his brothers, and his mother called his name
Jabez, saying, “Because I bore him in pain.” And Jabez called on the God of Israel saying,
“Oh, that You would bless me indeed, and enlarge my territory, that Your
hand would be with me, and that You would keep me from evil, that I may not cause
pain!” So God granted him what he requested.
 
I kept running into sermons and women's meetings where the story of Jabez was recounted as a lesson on prayer, contentment, and/or obedience during the period of time from 1998 until after 2000. When people would ask where I got the name Jabez from, I took delight in being able to tell them I got the name from the Bible.  So, he was kind of like a ministry tool.  However, no one could pronounce his name right.  I pronounced his name like JAY-Bez, but people had all kinds of ways they would pronounce it.

To me, Jabez was a gift from God to assuage my hurting heart in the aftermath of the loss of my husband, Alfredo, and my impending empty-nest era.  He was always waiting for me when I came home and soon established himself as the king of the roost, which he basically ruled until he died on December 8, 2012.

I will never forget him and will always miss him.  He was my constant companion at my home.

I got a couple of sympathy cards from the vet and the hospital and the following poem was included in one of the cards.

The Continuing Saga of Jabez, my boo

So, Jabez has stopped eating - again.  It's been almost two hours since I got up and all he has done is drink a bunch of water.  Instead of forcing two pills down his throat, I decided to crush them up, add a little water and fill a syringe with the mixture and squirt it in his mouth.  Well, he doesn't like that any better but at least I don't have to struggle to keep his mouth closed and at the same time stroke his throat to get him to swallow.  He's such a big cat and it's really difficult for me with my carpal tunnel syndrome and the pinched nerve problem I have with my neck.  I got the job done but he has absolutely no interest in food.  He has just been looking out the window and now that I'm on the computer he is laying about 2 feet away from where I sit.  

Yesterday, I broke down a couple of boxes that the food and the syringes came in, and put them down on the floor, because I know he likes to lay on cardboard and papers.  So, he is laying on top of those sleeping at the moment.  The vet wanted me to measure his respiration so, yesterday, it was 48 when he was awake and about 32 when he is sleeping, and that's pretty much what it is today.  Normal respiration for a cat is 24-40, so it's a little elevated when he's awake.  Forty-eight was what it was in the ER and that's why they want me to monitor it.

I tried calling a pet sitter to get the Christmas holiday set up so I could go spend some time with my daughter and her family.  One sitter was already booked and the other hasn't returned my call as yet.  It'll cost me a couple of hundred of dollars to pay the pet sitter and I wonder if he'll make it until then.  He probably will because I'm taking such good care of him.  I tested his blood sugar and it's 384, which is high, so at least he is not going into diabetic shock, which is what happens when your blood sugar is too low.  

There is a condition called "ketoacidosis" which is what happens when your blood sugar is too high.  This can also cause a diabetic coma but is usually referred to as a ketoacidosis coma.  Left untreated, ketoacidosis is fatal.  So, I'm back to questioning Jabez's quality of life.  If he won't eat and I can't give him his regular dose of insulin ketones may stay in his blood and cause ketoacidosis.  If I give him too much insulin, like giving him his regular dose of insulin, I could cause the same thing that happened back on 2007, which nearly killed him. 

He had been not eating, much like he is now, but I was continuing to give him his regular dose of insulin, and this went on for two or three days.  So, one day when I came home from work (yes, I actually had a job then), I found him basically comatose on my kitchen floor.  He was vocalizing, which sounded like screeching, when I pulled up in the driveway and I could hear it and wondered what the sound was.  So, I found him nearly dead on my kitchen floor and picked him up (he was very cold) and he seemed to rouse a little, and put him in his carrier and hustled him off the to ER.  They saved his life and I purchased the glucometer at that time.

So, having been through all that I am really careful not to overdose his insulin injections.  I don't check his blood sugar daily because I hate it as much as he does, except he is the one who is getting stuck with the lancet.  Plus, sometimes I am unsuccessful at getting enough of a blood droplet to form so I can test it.  This really pisses him off and if I try to poke him again he is SO done with me that he usually really fights me if I don't get it   the second time.  So, I never poke him more than twice, therefore, sometimes I am unable to test his sugar levels.  Today, however, I was successful and got the aforementioned reading of 384.

He is basically exhibiting all the signs and symptoms of ketoacidosis, drinking lots of water, urinating a lot, lethargic and I believe his stomach does hurt him based on the way he lays down.  So... I'm back to the question of euthanasia.

Please pray...

Jabez, my boo. Part 3

So, I guess that idea I had was from God because I got a can of the wet MD diabetic cat food that he used to love and he ate!  I just put a little bit in his bowl and he was very interested and actually ate most of it, so I gave him a little bit more and he "ate" it.  He's still really not eating but just licking all the juice off of it but that is still more than he has done in the past two days.

So, I might go back tomorrow and get a few more cans if he continues to eat it.  I didn't want to buy a lot of it in case he refused it and I'm not adverse to going back to the vet to get more.  It's just a shame I can't get it at a regular supermarket.  Oh well, for now, I'm happy and he is now sleeping a few feet away from me.

Praise the Lord!

Jabez, my boo. Part 2

Ok, so I've taken my cat to the ER twice in the past week and can only get a vague idea of what is going on with him.  He absolutely refuses to eat.  This is not good for a diabetic, kitty, or human.  I thought for sure I was going to have to put him to sleep last night but when we got to the ER he rallied around and started acting like his normal sweet self.   All they can offer is nausea medicine and an appetite stimulant.  And of course more diagnostic tests.  Ten years ago when I was making mucho dinero I would have gone ahead and let them run all the tests they needed to get at the problem.  Now?   I'm not making that kind of money anymore and what's more, the money I am getting is not permanent and can be stopped at any time by the work comp insurance.  Anyway....

So, today he is just laying at my feet as I sit here without anything to eat or drink.  I got an idea when I woke up this morning to get him some of that wet food that I used to feed him for diabetics.  He loved that stuff and got up to 30lbs when I was feeding him that.  So, I thought I'd go to the vet and get a can of that and see if he'll eat that.  I'm not sure what the next few days will reveal for this kitty who is diabetic and won't eat.  I just couldn't make the decision last night to euthanize.  Especially since he started acting like his normal self in the ER.

So, here we are again.  Please pray for this situation.  I really don't want to euthanize him.  I just want the Lord to take him without my help.  It's so hard.  This kitty has been a part of my life for the past 12 years and has provided so much companionship that I have come to love and depend on.  Shouldn't that make God want to take him?  I mean, it seems like God takes away things from me that I love and depend on, so it makes logical sense to me that He will take Jabez away too.

Our God is a jealous God and He doesn't want anything between Him and me.  I wonder if that includes school?  I can't seem to start studying for the finals coming up next week.  Like here I am writing this blog instead of studying......

Pray for me and my boo.

Jabez, my boo

So, I finally took my kitty into the ER and found out that not only does he have diabetes, but he now has cataracts, gall stones and heart disease.  The vet said that with medication he could probably live like another year or so.  I was struggling with the idea of putting him to sleep and they offered to do it right there and then but I just couldn't do it.  He has been such a great little companion to me the past 12 years and the idea of just ending his life like that, so suddenly, seems really callous and ... fast.

So, I brought him home and have been giving him lots of love and pandering to his constant begging for food.  The thing is he is not really eating his food, he is just licking the gravy off the top and then sitting at the refrigerator door looking soulfully up at me.  Since he is a type 1 diabetic, for him to not eat is not good, so I have been opening the same number of cans of cat food daily but he is only eating a fraction of the food and just licking the gravy off the top.  I've had to cut his insulin dosage down because I almost killed him a few years ago when he stopped eating, like he is now, but kept giving him his usual dosage of insulin.  I came home from work one day to find him basically comatose on my kitchen floor.  I rushed him to the hospital and some thousand dollars later he recovered.  That's when I decided to buy him the glucometer.  Yeah, they have one for cats and dogs.  It's called an Alphatrak and works pretty good but considering his size, and my negatively correlated size (I'm a small person), it just isn't practical to poke him once a day to test his blood sugar.  So, based on the vet's recommendations, I am to give him only 2 units of insulin if he eats less than half his food.

He's lost a lot of weight and I can feel his back bones which had previously been covered with a layer of fat.  I just hope the good Lord takes him home (where ever kitty home is) and I don't have to actually put him to sleep.  I think I might have nightmares about that.  Especially, since my mother had a not so pleasant experience putting her cat down.  I couldn't even listen to her tell me about it because it freaked me out so much. 

Ah well, such is trials and tribulations of having pets, I guess.  Every day I leave and come home I'm half expecting him to be ... not with us anymore.  But so far he is hanging in there.