Today I came home from photographing a house for a new drawing. Jones was on the porch, as usual. I said, “Jones, don’t lie that way. You look dead!” She was. Zeke just looked over at her body and had lunch. I went into the house to put my things down and realized I needed a friend, because I am just a big baby. S came over and brought Ralph with her. They are so kind. They found no signs of injury, so they loaded her into a box, and I am now trying to get a hole dug in the DG (or whatever the heck this hard excuse for soil is) so I can properly lay her to rest. Jones was a dropped off cat who came to us about 8 years ago. She had pretty coloring, a brown tabby with clear green eyes and very soft fur. I used to tell her that she was made up of the leftover scraps from the Kitty Factory. Her legs and tail were short, and her eyes were too big for her face. She squeaked rather than meowed, and she always let me know exactly what she wanted. “Let me in”, “let me out”, “Perkins wants to come in”, “the food bowl is empty”. . . she was very clear. Each time we got a new kitten (she watched 5 new cats come into her space), she was outraged. If the new cat got too close, not only did she hiss and growl, she actually snorted! Not real ladylike, but she had a point to make. She was preceded in death Wilson, Scout, Prudence and Amos, but is survived by Zeke and Perkins. I got tired of her barfing, and I didn’t always like her, but I loved Jones and I will miss her. So will Perkins, but Zeke will just have dinner.
Perkins and Jones looked out for one another. Zeke looks out for his bowl.