And then there were four.

It was a beautiful late fall morning. Friday. The day after Thanksgiving 2001. It was two months after my cat, Lucky, died unexpectedly from heart disease. I was nervous walking into the Nebraska Humane Society. I so desperately wanted, needed another cat. But I knew it would need to be the right cat. Not just any cat. Someone special.

Zorro, who was left alone after Lucky passed was lonely. He would wander around the house meowing and carrying Lucky's toys in his mouth. Toys he had never played with. He had never been an only cat and he didn't like it. He needed a friend. A partner. A playmate.

I filled out the paperwork and nervously paced around the lobby waiting for my turn to meet with the adoption counselor. A kitten, an orange tabby, that had caught my eye earlier was snatched up by the couple in line ahead of me. I was near tears. What if I didn't find a cat? How would I know the right one? What if they think I'm crazy and don't let me adopt one? Finally my name was called and I took my turn in the visitation room. I had chosen to visit with another orange kitten about 8-10 weeks of age. The counselor brought in the orange kitten along with 2 other kittens from the same litter... just in case, she said.

The orange kitten was playful. He tore around the room having a ball. And pretty much was oblivious to me sitting there. His sister, a dilute torti, was shy and hid in the corner of the room. But the little black and white kitten with asymmetrical markings played with me. He wanted to be petted and tried to bring his toys to me. He played with toys that Lucky would have chosen... ones that were too big for him. He was sweet, and spunky, and perfect.

After paying the adoption fee, Mungojerrie was boxed up and riding home in the backseat of my car. I chose Mungojerrie because in the musical CATS he is described as a notorious cat, a knockabout clown and comedian, tight rope walker and acrobat. My little furball lived up to his reputation. Zorro took him in immediately and loved to have someone to cuddle with and play with. Jerrie, as he was nicknamed, was the perfect addition. He would grab the loose end of the red yarn ball my mom made for him, easily two times his size, and drag that ball all over the house. He was a constant source of entertainment. And love.

Jerrie moved with me from Iowa to Florida to Illinois to Arizona. Eventually we added to our family with Blue, Gus, and Brady. But little Jer was always special to me. He was the one that I went in search for... and he found me. The others (though I love them all) were souvenirs from my job. Unwanted pets that needed to be rescued. And I took them into my heart and my home. But Jerrie was mine.

A couple of years ago Jerrie became ill. He was losing weight and vomiting. He was diagnosed with inflammatory bowel disease. He stabilized on a special diet and regained weight and did well. Until about 6 months ago. Jerrie started to lose weight and vomit again. Thinking he was having a flare up I started meds for his IBD. When the medications didn't seem to help we started a workup. Bloodwork. Ultrasound. More blood tests. Surgery. Biopsies. We obtained a lot of evidence, but never a definitive diagnosis. I continued to treat for possible causes to no avail. My baby was deteriorating in front of my eyes. He had lost half his body weight and was weak. He was no longer stable on his feet, had a hard time jumping onto the counter top to steal my food. His purr was weak and his meow was sometime inaudible.

This morning, Jerrie was put to sleep in my arms. My love for him prevented me from allowing him to deteriorate further, though I pray I didn't wait too long. I read to him Cat Heaven (by Cynthia Rylant) so he would know what to expect. I told him to wait for me in Heaven, I would be back to get him one day.

Mungojerrie (aka: Jeraldine, Jer, Jerrie, Foo): September 2001- June 23, 2010