Hero, Teacher, Cat
Jacob
“We have a 13-year-old cat at home who really needs a friend,” we told the volunteer at Happy Cats Haven rescue in January 2019.
“Well, WE have a 13-year-old cat who needs a friend!” she said, guiding my husband, Adam, and I into a room where multiple cats looked up from their naps. “His name is Jacob.”
A sleek, black cat started purring so loudly as we walked in that we could hear his motor across the room.
Emotionally, Adam and I weren’t ready to adopt another cat. We were still grieving the loss of our 15-year-old cat, Shredder, who we’d had to put to sleep the month before after his legs stopped working. But our other cat, Lambert, was lonely and anxious and also grieving the loss of his best friend. We couldn’t close a door in the house or leave without Lambert meowing frantically — something he didn’t do when Shredder was alive. Every time we got home from work, he would not leave our side.
Shredder, left, and Lambert
So to help alleviate his loneliness and to honor Shredder’s amazing memory, we decided to adopt a cat.
HEMO HERO
When the shelter volunteer said Jacob was a “hemo cat,” we said, “What’s that?”
Apparently some cats and dogs live in labs/blood banks, where they give blood that can be used for other animals who need it. We’d never heard of such a thing. Instantly, I thought of “Mad Max” — humans being enslaved and used for their milk and blood. Jacob had lived in a hemo lab for 10 years — presumably after being rescued from death row at the local kill shelter.
“Hemo cats share their nine lives,” said the volunteer, explaining that a patch on his neck was shaved because he’d recently given his last blood donation (for cats, blood is taken from the jugular vein) before retiring and coming to Happy Cats Haven.
“So you’re saying he’s a hero,” we said.
But despite his heroism, sweetness and great looks, I still didn’t know if I was ready to invite a new friend into my life. I knew that adopting a cat meant falling in love with him and, therefore, exposing myself to the brutal pain that is the price of love.
The volunteer told us to take our time and think about it — she didn’t think that a 13-year-old, black cat with asthma and (supposed) allergies would be getting adopted anytime soon.
The next week we were back picking up Jacob.
“We’ll just be his guardians and give him a comfortable life,” Adam and I told each other. “We won’t get attached.”
Mm hmm.
WORTH IT
Adam and Jacob at Happy Cats Haven on Jacob’s adoption day. We’ll always remember how Jacob hugged your arm when you held him.
A week later we were back with a cat carrier.
Because Jacob was 13, had super long fangs and was black, we said he was the gothest cat ever. We named him Jacob Lugosi … which we would later adapt to Jacob Paycheck Lugosi, because of all his medical problems that led to thousands and thousands of dollars’ worth of procedures and medicine over the years.
But first, the introduction to Lambert. Well, Lambert may have been lonely, but he doesn’t take kindly to strangers. So he hissed a lot at Jacob, who we kept in a bedroom by himself for a few days. We would bring him out to see Lambert for a little bit each day. We fed them treats near each other to build positive associations.
After three days, I fed them tuna on the same plate! They quickly became BFFs, cuddling, wrestling and grooming each other.
The first time they ate off the same plate.
It took two vets to find out that his incessant sneezing wasn’t allergies but irritation from his fangs. Apparently when a cat’s teeth descend low, it doesn’t mean they are vampire kitties but that the teeth roots are rotting. Because of a cat’s nasal anatomy, this can cause all kinds of problems. Operation 1: Remove most of his teeth.
Jacob was ecstatic after the tooth extraction. His joy was palpable and contagious. We would take him in our grassy backyard (under supervision because he likes to escape under the gate) to romp, and he’d run around and around, coming over to visit every few minutes. He would curl up on my picnic blanket and purr his loud purr, basking in the sun.
Jacob and me on a picnic blanket
His happiness made me SO happy. Knowing all he’d given to other cats over the years — I was just overjoyed to see him to spend his retirement receiving all we could give him. I loved lying on the couch with him purring on my chest. I said he had healing purrs … they vibrated down into my heart and gave me such comfort.
Adam, Jacob and me
Another health issue he had was asthma. When he’d purr, you could hear that he was also wheezing. When he used the litter box, the dust he stirred up would make him cough and wheeze. So a vet prescribed an inhaler and recommended we get him an AeroKat to deliver it when he was wheezing.
He didn’t love the AeroKat inhaler, but he tolerated it for a few breaths at a time.
Things were peaceful, but then Jacob’s sneezing returned … this time with blood.
The house became like a crime scene. We’d wake up to blood splatters on the walls and couch. We had to start covering the furniture in sheets. Jacob loved to walk across my pillow, pulling my hair, multiple times a night. Now he would do that AND sneeze blood on me.
The vet prescribed him antibiotics, figuring it was some sort of infection. It helped for a while, but then the sneezing returned. We called a new vet, who was mobile and would come to us (since Jacob hates riding in the car) now called Florek Family Vet. Dr. Cynthia Florek immediately saw that Jacob had a fistula resulting from his tooth extraction. It was trapping bacteria and food under the skin. She scheduled him surgery that week. Operation 2: Fistula repair. It worked! No more sneezing. In fact, he barely needed the AeroKat after that.
But Jacob remained accident and infection prone. He almost lost an eye after taking a claw to it during a wrestling match with Lambert; he once had a $1,500 enema (after all the blood work and X-rays); in 2023 he had Operation 3: removal of a tumor from his back leg; he gets a monthly Solencia injection for his arthritis. The mobile vet and her staff have become our friends … I can tell they have really grown to care about us and our cats.
Despite Jacob’s many maladies, he’s the happiest cat ever! My Instagram grid is like 95% Jacob. He’s taught me that it’s possible to be joyful even when we experience pain and sickness.
He loves when friends and family visit. He especially loves kids … anytime children (even toddlers who pull his fur and tail) visit, he prefers to be by them, purring up a storm. When friends bring their dogs over, he likes them too. Everyone lights up around him. A hero indeed.
My friend Lauren’s son with Jacob.
It’s Such a Perfect Day
One of my favorite memories of all time is a sunny afternoon I spent in the backyard with Adam, Lambert and Jacob. That afternoon — Oct. 31, 2020, I snapped dozens of photos of Jacob — the edges of his jetty fur shimmering with green, purple and golden beads of light.
It was a day when Jacob, although we like to treat him like a baby, showed me he was, in fact, more enlightened than I’ll ever be.
“Ode to a Black Cat on Halloween”
A cat’s nature was never more true,
Magnificent or fully expressed
Than beneath the falling sun
on the Halloween of his 15th year.
A cauldron of leaves stirring around him
He’s a symbol of autonomy
Swimming in the wellspring of experience
In his perfect nature, elemental
I am not his keeper or master,
He tells me without words
I keep him most hours behind closed doors
Because I’m attached to his form
His nature is to be wild and free
My nature is to clench and cling
Still he forgives me when I bring him in
Before he can blend into the night
He is my perfect teacher
GRIEF: LOVE WITH NO PLACE TO GO
It’s now January 2025, and in the almost seven years since Jacob came to live with us, he’s gotten pretty much everything he wants.
Churu licky treats every day, with a dollop of Cat Lax and a drop of stool softener, since his hips have grown too weak to push out poop. (Pro tip for constipated cats: Put the Cat Lax on the outside of the Churu and the BM Gold drops in the Churu.) He also gets tuna or wet food most days. He loves to “play the hero card” so we’ll give him small amounts of his favorite treat: any sort of dairy. Cheese, yogurt … we limit these so we don’t make his health issues worse, but he gets little licks here and there.
He used to love going outside and romping in the yard. He hasn’t wanted to that much over the past year. The rough terrain makes it harder for him to walk for the rest of the day.
On warm fall days, he spent time on the screen-in patio, or catio, soaking up the sun. In this frigid January, he prefers to cuddle on a heating pad next to Lambert. I keep the house warmer for him, thankful that I work from home most of the time so I can spend time near him.
He’s grown skinny. He often collapses in the litter box from exertion — exertion that’s often in vain. He has started spasming when he pees. He leaks poop. He is so wobbly when he walks, we can tell how painful it must be.
Even though he still loves to eat and cuddle … he is suffering. He deserves rest. He deserves peace. He deserves freedom from the confines of his failing body.
So today I scheduled for the vet to come see him one last time two days from now.
This pain I feel over this decision seems unbearable. I don’t know how I’m going to do this. Again and again. Every time we love someone. This grief is the price we pay.
Novelist Jamie Anderson wrote, “Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.”
I’m going to hold a little ceremony tomorrow night for Adam, Lambert and I to celebrate Jacob’s roughly 20 years in this body and to say goodbye. I hope I can be a hero for him and let him know it’s OK to move on and leave his body. I can be his hero by stopping my clinging and letting him blend into the night. To be free of pain. To feel ease, relief and release.
I’ll tell him there’s nothing to fear. And that we’ll be OK and that I’m so thankful for the joy he has shared with so many people and animals during his time in his body. And I will try to stay open-hearted so that my love DOES have someplace to go … wherever Jacob is going. I’ll try to keep sending it there.
