jack the demon cat Archives - A Way To Garden

meet bob, the new cat in my life

margaret — Sun, 13 Nov 2016 15:31:55 +0000

SOME OF YOU will recall my beloved Jack, who departed in 2014 but is not forgotten (nor can ever truly be replaced). Since last winter, I have been blessed with the companionship of Bob, who yesterday devoured a mouse outside the kitchen window, allowing me to catch the quick snapshot above. Sometimes I spy him when he comes to drink from the frog pool just beyond the back porch (you know, the one the black bear thinks is a hot tub?), but usually Bob hunts in the unmown meadow above the house, listening intently before pouncing on his prey the way my Jack did, and in the very same favored spot. Cats! I thought you would enjoy seeing how magnificent he is. More about Eastern bobcats. If you don’t recall Jack, here’s something from the archives: remembering my man jack

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remembering my man jack

margaret — Fri, 24 Jan 2014 17:38:11 +0000

SOME MEN I have lived with would tell you I am inflexible, and fussy—that hair in the shower, for instance, or any noise or disruptions to the sanctity of sleep are just two of the legion of things I am impatient with. Jack the Demon Cat would have told another story of me, about a person who resisted but then surrendered, who got past the hair and the all-night prowling, at least this once. The other day, I lost my Jack, the one who finally got through to me. A remembrance of my longtime friend. First this, for the record, because for all living souls it’s the deepest heart’s desire: He never suffered. Jack’s end was quick, and dignified. He had what my own doctor tells me is called a compressed morbidity—a blessedly brief time from “something’s wrong” to “it’s over,” short-cutting around prolonged illness, or debilitation. He was Jack every day of his life, which spanned about 15 years. He was my 9/11 cat, the stray who came in from the cold that morning (or at least from the woods). There he was when I, frantic and afraid, pulled into the driveway. I had fled Manhattan after seeing planes […]

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silver lining to the darkest day: my jack

Wed, 11 Sep 2013 16:39:17 +0000

MY SISTER CALLED this morning to wish us well on a dozen years together–“us” being me and Jack–but at first I didn’t know what she meant. I lose track of dates in this rural life, but she had not forgotten: It is 9/11, the darkest day, but also the day that I met Jack. I suppose you could call him my silver lining–or at least a black-and-white one. A recollection on finding some small comfort in a large cat. We wish you all comfort, too.

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