On the first of June, 2005, a tiny five week old kitten was placed in my hands. He grabbed hold of my thumb and looked at me with his huge, unfocused eyes. I fell in love and in that instant my special relationship with Davey Jones began.

Davey Jones didn't become Davey Jones at the beginning. He was just a hungry, malnourished, and so afraid little kitten. I had to feed him with watered down food and kitten milk in a syringe. He had to remain confined in a carrier, because we had a FeLV cat who was going through chemotherapy, and he couldn't run loose until he was tested and vaccinated. I bought him a stuffed toy to snuggle up with and he soon calmed down and started running my life.

On his first Vet visit, I found out that he was a male and the name Daisy was not appropriate, so he became Davey Jones. When he was old enough to be tested for FeLV and have his first vaccinations, he gave the Vet a dirty look, stomped into his carrier and turned is back on us. When I saw the look he gave our Vet, I could almost tell what he was thinking. That was the beginning of Davey Jones' Diary and four wonderful years.

Davey Jones spent a lot of time in the bathroom which was really his playroom. Because he had no siblings, he spent a lot of time with Sweetie, an older cat. I went in the bathroom, played with him, and took pictures. I was retired and the time that I spent with him was full of laughter and fun. I'd never had time before retirement to socialize a kitten and I really enjoyed every minute.

Termi, the FeLV cat, had a mass in her chest cavity which was diagnosed as lymphoma. She responded well to chemo and was in complete remission when Davey Jones was finally allowed to have the run of the house. Davey Jones was not welcomed with open arms into our animal household. He was hissed at, batted around and was constantly running to me to be rescued. As he matured, he gained respect.

He protected our house. Davey Jones never allowed an insect to remain in our home. Whenever one would enter uninvited, he would locate it and tell me to remove it instantly. I know that Davey Jones killed and ate insects, but usually he allowed me to get rid of the disgusting intruder. The rest of the time, he protected us from the ghosts and phantoms that always lurked in the hallway. At all hours of the day and night, you could see him jumping and turning. He never allowed a phantom to harm us.

Davey Jones found lost animals. People, who came to our house, were always amazed that Davey Jones came when he was called and would tell me where a "missing" cat could be found. All that I had to say was: "Davey Jones, where's Belle?" and he would trot off to where ever Belle was hiding. He knew the names of every animal in our house and could locate everyone in a matter of minutes. Sometimes he'd lead me to a room and sit back and wait for me to locate the "missing person". At other times, he would lead me directly to the cat or dog. It was as if he were saying, "I'm not sure you could find them on your own."

Davey Jones was very helpful around the house. Among his many jobs were supervising cleaning, construction, and laundry. He loved laundry day the most. Davey Jones watched to make sure I separated the whites and colors correctly and used the just the right amount of detergent and fabric softener. He tested the warm-from-the-dryer towels to make sure they were not scratchy. His best job was ceiling watching. I knew that the ceiling would do no harm as long as Davey Jones was on the job.

Davey Jones loved Christmas and helped to decorate the tree and the house. He loved the years that we used His Lemon Tree, but he also liked the artificial tree that we used for our Christmas tree. He just loved to steal an ornament and run with it. He always had the Christmas spirit.

Davey Jones was a great soccer player. He'd organize a game and then a couple of cats would play and play. He let everyone play, including Booper, my cerebral palsy cat. Booper can bat the ball with the rest of them, but she's wobbly. Whenever Booper was around, Davey Jones would step back and give her a chance to hit the ball. He showed Booper respect for her age (9 years old) and disability.

Davey Jones' favorite activity was straw-stealing. He was very sneaky about it. He would be nonchalant, slink around until we weren't looking, and then grab the straw out of our soft drinks. When he was younger, he never spilled a drop. We wouldn't notice that the straw was missing until we'd see him running down the hall with his tail in the air and the straw in his mouth. In his last month, he was eyeing my straw and I knew that he'd have trouble stealing it, so I put my drink on the floor and pulled the straw out as far as possible. Davey Jones "stole" the straw and carried it to his place on the back of the chair. It was his last straw heist.

Davey Jones had two favorite things: his Bubby and blue rings from water jugs. I purchased his Bubby a few days after Davey Jones came to live with us and he loved that stuffed dog. He carried Bubby around in his mouth. He beat Bubby up and rabbit-kicked him, all the time, growling. He was so funny. The blue rings were fun to carry around and toss in the air. Even in the last month of his life, he could toss and catch his blue ring. I could tell how much it thrilled him to be able to play with his blue ring, even if it was only in his chair.

From the time that he started losing weight in October, 2008, until his diagnosis of lymphoma in and around his heart, April, 2009, Davey Jones still remained active and loving. He always loved to sit on my lap while I read or watched TV. We'd nap together and he'd put his head on my shoulder and nurse on my collar. I tried to break him of the nursing habit when he was small, but I finally just gave up. Now I really miss him snuggling up, purring, and making a big wet spot on the collar of my T-shirt. Toward the end, he wasn't comfortable napping with me and slept on the back of the chair or in his basket.

He loved watching TV and climbing up on the entertainment center. He would jump down from the top of the entertainment center and then crawl up over the TV. It was a game to him. I played along until I realized that he could get out of the situation on his own. One of my favorite pictures is Davey Jones peeking out from the top of the TV.

It was very hard to learn that my healthy, active three year old cat had a fatal disease and it was difficult to realize that every time that I said, "Good night, Davey Jones" that it might be the last time that I would see him alive. Davey Jones and I were very lucky. He had a quality life clear up until the last day. He still walked around, played, and was eating on his own. He seemed to know how to pace himself and was able to enjoy his time and give me great memories. I thank him for that.

When a beloved pet dies, it leaves a hole in your heart that you think will never mend. The grief can suck you into a dark hole if you let it. I chose not to allow that to happen. Davey Jones was a special feline and he and I made a connection in that first moment that he grabbed my thumb. In the last month of his life, whenever I would start to pet him, he would grab my thumb and hold on with all of his claws out. At first, I pulled away and said, "Ouch!", but soon I realized that he was letting me know that we still were connected - no matter what.

Booper groomed Davey Jones after he died. Holly, The Evil One, came over and gave him a kiss. The dogs guarded him until I had him ready with his blankie, his Bubby, a catnip toy, a blue ring, and his straw. He was cremated with all of the things that he loved. He used to sit in the bathroom window watching the birds in the lilac bush. Now that I have the ashes back, on the first pretty day, I'll bury him under that lilac bush.

Sweetie Cat remains depressed, but has gone to my sister, Susan, for comfort every night. Belle is still looking for Davey Jones and acting out by shredding the paper towels twice a day. Everyone else seems to be doing well. We'll keep an eye on all and make sure that everyone has personal time.

Since his death, I've caught a glance of Davey Jones running down the hall with his tail up and a straw in his mouth. Blue rings and straws have appeared everywhere in the house and certain cats have adopted some Davey Jones characteristics. Barnaby has started to curl up with me and purr me to sleep and that's the biggy. Barnaby had never claimed anyone as his own before. The one characteristic that we would have loved for Davey Jones to pass-on, he didn't: Finding missing family members. I can still call on him and he guides me to the missing animal every time.

I want to thank THE VET for being such a good sport. SHE was thrilled that even though Davey Jones had a standing weekly appointment he never lost his charm or his purr and always allowed HER to give him his chin scratch and belly rub.

Thank you, Kent, for having faith in an unknown kitten.

I also want to thank those of you who have read and enjoyed Davey Jones' Diary. I have heard from people all over the world and every e-mail means so much. It's hard to end this column, but it's time to move on. I'm going with smiles, laughs, and lots of memories.

Some people look at me and say, "It's only a cat." I used to get angry, but now I just feel sorry for them. They've never been part of a relationship with a special creature.

We all love our animals and are cat lovers with a capital L, but once in a while, a special little kitten will grab your heart in a way that you wouldn't believe is possible. If you've had the experience, then you know what I'm saying. If you haven't, then I wish you a Davey Jones.

Davey Jones (April 2005 - May 2009)

Thank you,
Maryellen