Jacko Schroeder

We found them at a no-kill shelter, or it is better to say they found us. When they were very young, they would sleep together in the bathroom sink or snuggle up tight on one of our living room chairs. Even into their latter years, they would continue to sleep close together. Jamie would often lay his head on Jack's stomach, but Jack enver minded. They were close and playful and never once scrapped or fought. It is hard to imagine now what Jack's absence is like for Jamie. We are cursed with human consciousness and are keenly aware of our loss, emptiness, and sadness. Jamie must feel this in some sense too.

 

There is so much we can say about our little buddy. Early on, when he was a kitten and we walked behind him, we noticed he had a little cowlick and we started calling him "Buhwheat" after the Spanky and Our Gang character. He would chase his tail on the bed at night racing around in circles. He slept near us in the evening while we watched TV and sometimes would fall asleep elongated in the crevice of my legs. But his sweetest and most endearing habit was this. When one of us would leave the house, or even sometimes when we walked into another room leaving him alone, he would pick up a little soft toy fish in his mouth and begin to cry. We never knew why he associated that little fish with sadness, but we learned early on that he was tender and affectionate and sensitive.  We were so glad to be near him and to hold him when he went to sleep. 

 

We are grateful that we had a number of wonderful years with Jacko since we retired nearly five years ago. We're heartbroken. We've cried a lot. I suppose some people will argue that animals don't have souls; when they're gone they vanish forever. Maybe this is just a dream, but we hope and pray that we'll see our little Jacko again.

 

Attached is a photo and a song that I wrote and perform called "The Sons of Thunder."

-- from WIPC... the attached song was wonderful... we loved listening to it.  Unfortunately, we were unable to attach it to Jacko's tribute. --

 

Jerry and Donna Schroeder, Moline, IL