Welcome to Grief and Pet Loss®.

 

My name is Christine Jette (pronounced ‘Jetty’). Most people call me Chris. I am a retired registered nurse with a bachelor’s degree in psychology. I worked in a variety of clinical settings including public health (infectious disease), surgical oncology, recovery room, allied health education and elder care. Through the years, I have volunteered for the SPCA, a no-kill cat shelter, and Drumlin Farm, part of the Massachusetts Audubon Society.

 

I began writing about grief after the death of my mother in 2006. For 12 years I had a general grief site named thegrievingheart.info but I let it go because the old web builder that I was using could not be converted into a secure site. It was time for a change in style and an overhaul of the material. It was time to honor my lifelong love of animals.

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The word pet comes from the Middle English word pety meaning small, trivial or insignificant. For centuries, pets were considered inferior to humans. For this reason, some animal rights advocates suggest that we eliminate the word pet from our vocabulary and use the phrase companion animal instead. But pet can also mean cherished, beloved and favored. It is in this sense of love and respect that I use the word throughout this site, but you will find the phrase companion animal, too.

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Although I share city life with only cats, I also love dogs. I grew up on a large farm and Border Collies tended the flock. They were intelligent, loyal, playful and endlessly affectionate. I have had the privilege of knowing cats, dogs, horses, a pony, sheep, goats, cows, donkeys, mules, ducks, chickens, a turtle, parakeets, goldfish, and a rabbit. And so, to all creatures great and small, I say thank you for enriching my life.

 

I play cornet in a community concert band. We stopped rehearsals and public performances for more than a year because of the COVID-19 state mandates. I was happy to return, but I missed making music for the joy of it. We all lost something, or someone, during the pandemic. Our lives and expectations for the future changed in ways we are just starting to understand.

 

I call Cincinnati my home and I share the ups and downs of life with my husband Tim and cat named Mandy.

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I hope that something here rings true with you and helps to ease the way, if only for a moment. Take what is yours to take from this site and know that I wish you unexpected comfort through all the seasons of your grief.

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Thank you for stopping by. Please visit anytime.

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My Email

 

Jimmy the Cat

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Jimmy appeared at my back door as a sickly  stray kitten  on my birthday. I opened the door and he walked into my heart. Best birthday gift ever. He died in 2024 from complications of lymphoma.

 

I had the privilege of living with Jimmy for 15 years. I knew our time together was drawing to a close and each day was a precious gift. I am grateful for our years of friendship.

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Because of skilled and compassionate veterinary care, Jimmy's euthanasia was peaceful and gentle. He died cradled in my arms, surrounded by love.​​

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Your friendship spans the years behind,

Your memory ahead.

You'll always be there next to me,

Companion and good friend.

(Click here to read the full poem.)

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Thank you and rest well, sweet Jimmy. Now you live in my heart.

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See Jimmy's Visit on After-Death Communication page.

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Post Script: I have said goodbye to many beloved cats through the years, and farewells never get easier. Jimmy's death, however, hit me harder than I expected. He came into my life on my birthday. I always knew he was my last kitten and we grew old together. I wrote most of the articles for this pet loss site while he sat on my lap, or rested beside me on his pillow.

 

Jimmy's lack of treatment in the emergency clinic caused him to suffer more and that angers me. I am grateful he received loving hospice care at my regular hospital in the final hours of his life. I have opened my heart to new love and adopted another cat, but my grief healing from Jimmy's death will be slow.

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Mandy

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I adopted Mandy, age five, at the local SPCA. She is smart, playful, chatty, affectionate, and a princess, in that endearing feline way. Her shelter name was Mittens, so Mandy's full name is Princess Amanda Sticky Mittens. She follows us everywhere.

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Mandy tested positive for the feline leukemia virus (FeLV). These cats are often overlooked for adoption, but feline leukemia is not an automatic death sentence. FeLV+ cats can live many years without showing symptoms. Since FeLV is highly contagious, a positive cat must be the only cat in the home, or live with cats who also have the virus. People and other species of pets, like dogs and rabbits, cannot contract it.
 

The names Mandy, and Amanda, come from the Latin verb amare (to love). Both names mean "worthy of love" or "lovable". Whether she is chasing her toys, basking in the sun, or snuggling on the sofa, Mandy acts healthy now, and has a lot of love to give. She may be with us for a few months, or several years, before the leukemia takes her life. Until that sad day arrives, I will love Mandy, and keep her as well and comfortable as possible. This includes good nutrition, and regular veterinary visits because of her weakened immune system.

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I believe that our animal friends have many lessons to teach us if we listen to the messages. Mandy is reminding me to take one day at a time and appreciate the moment. Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow may never be, but we have this day. Choose wisely.

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A long time ago, I made a promise to myself and a cat named Quinnie Rose: If another cat with the feline leukemia virus ever crossed my path, I would do everything I could to find her a loving home. I am grateful for the chance to keep my promise.