An Emotional Tribute to My Cat
Jojo Was A Good Boy and He Was Always My Hat
Jojo was such an affectionate, loving, eccentric, and intelligent cat. He was also my favorite hat. This wasn’t always the case. I would wake up in the middle of the night sometimes and find him perched right on my head. I’d be laying down in the middle of doing something on my phone, and he would see me, and I knew what would happen next.
He went right for my head. That was his favorite place to snuggle with me. Sometimes, if I was in the middle of something, I’d shrug him off and put him lower on my body or just away altogether, but if I was feeling affectionate myself, I’d just feel the comfort of having my loving boy right on my head, right where he liked to be.
Our cat was an old cat. He was about 22 years old when he passed in August 2020. We had only had him for the last five years of his life as he was our friend Ellie’s cat before that. She couldn’t keep him and it broke her heart. She had him for a long time. They had also been through a lot together.
He would hurt himself doing routine cat things more often like jumping off of things and landing on his feet and getting up on to things that he really shouldn't have. He was a very cuddly kitty.
Normally, the cats that I had had previously were more standoffish and independent than this. For me and my partner, all he wanted to do most of the time when we were around was be near us and cuddle and show his love towards us. He also liked to playfully paw at us. It was so cute to see an old cat still play like he was a kitten.
He was also strange in a way because he was a cat who liked to bathe. He enjoyed getting cleaned off. He had too many human tendencies here to list. Mike and I swear sometimes that Jojo wasn’t a cat, but the soul of an old human who wanted a second chance at a family.
He showed signs that he was starting to slow down even before he passed. He was a fighter and a survivor. Even right before he passed, he let out a cry that he didn’t want to die. He hardly meowed and I think that hearing that cry, I think he knew he was going.
His usual audible sounds were the loud purrs he would make around you knowing that he wanted to comfort you if he knew you were feeling down or upset. He cried out to the two men who loved him the most in the whole world. He wanted us to know that he didn’t want to go. He wanted to be near the people who loved him the most.
He died in our truck. I still hear him crying out to me sometimes at night when I’m sleeping and I feel a weight on my head at night that feels comforting knowing that he’s near us. I’m sure he knew that I’ve never been good with confronting death. I’ve either distanced myself or ran away from people when either a close loved one died or when they were dying. I know it seems like a crappy defense mechanism but I’m not ready to face the own realities of my mortality.
Mike and I still miss him. It still hurts very much even today to write these memories and relive those feelings we felt when we lost him. I’ve been crying just sitting here writing this. I just know Jojo never wanted me to be sad.
I know that he’d be purring right near me right now and trying to be my hat and lay on my head to console me. No other hat has ever given me so much joy. I’ll never have another hat like him. “I love you, Jojo, you silly, fluffy hat. You’re a good boy. I still feel you with me. You were loved, but you knew that.” He’ll live on in our hearts forever.
