All Cats Go to Heaven

This past weekend Stephanie and I enjoyed a lovely time in Charleston. We had amazing weather and saw great friends. We packed a lot into roughly 48 hours or so. Everything was going so well. Until we got a phone call. I missed the call and listened to the voicemail as we waited to be seated for breakfast on Sunday. The woman on the other end of the line identified herself as my next door neighbor and I knew immediately she was calling about Moony. I held my breath. She said she had found our kitty, our Moony, and the way she said it, I knew this wasn’t a case of mistaken identity for a stray black cat. A tad overzealous, I excitedly shouted, “Steph! It’s Moony! She found her!” I missed part of what she said, still too excited at the thought that our little one would be returned to us in just a few hours after months of searching. Still listening I said, “wait… Why did you put her in a bag?” Stephanie understood immediately, but it wasn’t until she walked away in tears and the neighbor said, “I’m so sorry to tell you like this,” that it clicked. That our neighbor found her body, not really her.

Our hearts are feeling rather broken. We have no idea what happened or when it happened and those questions are constantly nagging at me. But we have some closure at least and I can say we appreciate that much. And possibly even more than that I am reminded that I have a John.

A John is someone who will prepare a costume and choreograph a strip routine to commemorate your birthday and also the first time you meet. John will always be sure that your glass is not empty. He will buy your tickets to a concert that you feel too cheap to pay for. A John is someone who will drive 4 hours and take shots of tequila with you immediately upon arriving. A John is someone who will design your entire wedding stationery and have you pay pennies for it. He will hold your hands when you’re in the middle of a panic attack and secretly wish he was anywhere other than such a horribly uncomfortable situation but he will never let you know. Johns are always in the middle of the dance floor and have an excellent appreciation for themed parties. He may not be standing on the side trying to catch the candy but Johns love parades. And matching t-shirts. He will order a pizza when everyone at the party is hungry. A John is someone who will live in your roommate’s bedroom every weekend for a semester and will spend hours with you both on the couch watching Disney channel. He will join you for Pride and fetch water when you inevitably puke in the bushes.

A John is someone who will drive to your house in the rain with a shovel and look through your neighbor’s carport for a dead cat in a bag. He will not only bury the cat, he’ll set up a gravesite with her collar and some flowers. A John is a good person to have and I am very lucky to have this one. Go find yourself a John if you do not already have one. Keep his glass full of Yellow Tail Chardonnay and he might stick around.


It’s not goodbye, my sweet moonpie.



feels right to have something from harry potter. also this played at our wedding.


2 thoughts on “All Cats Go to Heaven

  1. April 25, 2017 — 12:12 pm

    So sorry about your little Moonpie. Good to have a nice neighbor like that. And yes. A real blessing to have a John. A tremendous blessing. Oxox 🐾💐

    Sent from my iPhone



  2. Oh, I am so sorry about Mooney. I’m glad your neighbor called though (as you said, closure) and that you have such an incredible person ( John, you’re amazing!) in your life. I don’t know if I’ve ever had quite that perfect of a combination in a friend. xoxo


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