Jasha

2005 - 2021

I was 16 years old when doctors told me I would never carry a pregnancy to term. 16. And told that a basic ability of femininity was gone. I had never wanted children, but being told it would never happen made me spiteful and hurting. My stepfather, a man I had never liked, took me to the pound to rescue a cat. As I sat in the "get to know me room" this cement grey cat came and just....sat on me. And that it. He had a name that didn't suit him, one I no longer remember. But that day Jasha became mine and I became his.
From the offset, he was not the normal cat, raised by miniature dachshunds and didn't know he could jump until some two years later. Always aware of my emotions, and in times of stress, he was there. He was my buddy. My constant.
Four years after getting him, I married my husband who promptly went on an unaccompanied tour. For a year he stayed with me, every night, snuggling along my spine when the nights were too long and painful.
He was born in Washington state and moved with me to Japan(and a major8 story fall), Germany, Florida, and Alabama. Back-to-back flights, some 10 flights all told. He was my rock after hurricane Michael took our base, home and friends. Today, we made the hardest decision of my life and helped my best friend, my boy over the Rainbow Bridge. At 1345-ish, Jasha went out like Michael Jackson and ODed on propofol under the care of his physician. His arthritis, mass in his mouth, arthritic paws, chronic painful constipation, suspect dementia and more chronic ailments made it clear that at this point in his life we would be moving from fire to fire.
It was time. And my heart is shattered. Anyone who had ever met Jasha would tell you that he was more than the normal fuzzy boy. Today, the Summerlands gained the best boy and I lost my best friend of sixteen years. I believe in reincarnation, and I know this was not his first trip through with a family. He went peacefully into the Bifrost, and I hope he can truly rest now.