I left to run a few errands. My youngest daughter had her own doctor’s appointment and we went to that. I was on my way to pick up some animal supplies when the phone rang. It was the vet. He said Mousey had a very large tumor in his stomach and it extended to his gallbladder. It was big. Massive, really, and he was sorry but there wasn’t any hope. No hope? What are you talking about? He said, I’m sorry, but your cat can’t be saved. I said, Can I come say good-bye? He said that he would be in so much pain if he woke up like this. I didn’t want him to be in pain. I need you to let me put him to sleep, he said. You want to kill my cat, you bastard! is what was going around my head. At that moment, I hated this man and everything he said to me was just lies. I wanted to deny it all. I heard the truth in his voice, though, and I also heard the compassion. He did not want to call me with this news. I was a bit out of breath for some reason and it took a lot to get the answer out of me. I almost whispered it, and he had to ask again. Yes, I said, yes, end his suffering. I’m coming, I said, and hung up. My daughter heard the entire conversation and asked if I was okay. I know she was hurting, too, and I hoped she understood my decision. I was driving, but I reached across with my free hand and took hold of hers.
Driving was hard because my eyes were soaked with tears. I drove to the little vet’s office and tried to keep it together. I wanted to say good-bye even though he was gone. The vet let me see the body. It was hard to see him with no life inside him. I laid my hand on him and told him I was back to bring him home like I promised.
That evening I looked everywhere for a shovel. I was going to bury my Mousey in a nice spot I had chosen. Where are the goddamn shovels? I shouted. I couldn’t find a shovel anywhere and I was getting angrier and angrier. I finally found a really poor excuse for a shovel and started my digging. That made me mad, too. The digging. My best friend and my aunt Tina were there because Thanksgiving was just a day away. I didn’t feel very thankful. I was so mad that I had to even dig that stinking hole for my cat that just had worms, damnit! Why couldn’t he have just had worms? I couldn’t wrap my brain around the fact I had taken him to the vet to get better and now he was dead. As I was digging, I was crying. Jessie and my daughters offered to help, and I just kept saying, “I don’t want to dig this fuckin’ hole.” After a while it felt good to be taking my anger out on the shovel and stupid hole in a way, and it felt even better when they all just took turns helping me. I got his body and laid it gently in the hole. We covered it with dirt and I made a nice little circle of rocks for the top. I said good-bye. I didn’t want to say good-bye.
I wasn’t sure if I was going to include this in my book because it is still a fresh memory and hurts my heart, but Mousey was my best kitty friend, and I want to always remember the joy he brought into my life. He was my bathroom buddy. He loved to go into the bathroom with me and would lick my hand. I miss that a lot. He has a brother named Tyson who looks a lot like him, just a little lighter in color but in the dark virtually the same. It’s hard seeing him sometimes and not think of my Mousey, but they are very different in personality.
I am so lucky to have so many animal friends in my life. They come in so many shapes, sizes, and colors, and each has their own personality. What they have in common, though, is their ability to make me feel wanted and loved each in their own way. They are my inner circle each and every one of them. I’m sure this circle will grow in the future and at times it will get smaller. Animals have always been a constant in my life, though, from the time I was a little baby and my grandma’s gray Persian cat Sugar would keep my head warm in my crib to the time I was three and got my first kitten, Rusty. His favorite resting spot for some reason was my training potty. Thank goodness, I didn’t use it anymore because I was a big girl learning to use the big-girl potty.
So my ending for this book is not an ending at all because my life goes on. Life goes on even during the bad, hard, heart-crushing times. Even these moments have taught me something. I’m not thankful for them, but I am tolerant of them because of this fact. I know the constants in my life will always be there even when they feel far away, whether in spirit, memory, or life. I will continue to learn and grow and help those I can. This is how I have rebuilt my life. Little moments. One day at a time. This is the good, bad, and the cheesy life I lead. I will always try to be the best person I can and take advantage of the time I have been granted in this life. My adventure continues, and I hope yours continues, too!
Zelda, Emma, Tyson, and Mousey.
Mousey kissing Zelda.
Courtesy of the Author
JAYCEE DUGARD is the author of the memoir A Stolen Life, which tells the story of her kidnapping and eighteen years of captivity. She is the founder of The JAYC Foundation, Inc., whose mission is to serve families who have suffered trauma.
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Copyright © 2016 by Luna Lee, Inc.
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First Simon & Schuster hardcover edition July 2016
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Dugard, Jaycee Lee, 1980– | Dugard, Jaycee Lee, 1980– Stolen life.
Title: Freedom: my book of firsts / Jaycee Dugard.
Other titles: Freedom
Description: First Simon & Schuster hardcover edition. | New York : Simon & Schuster, 2016. | “Simon & Schuster nonfiction original hardcover”—Title page verso.
Identifiers: LCCN 2016016388 (print) | LCCN 2016017705 (ebook) | ISBN 9781501147623 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781501147647 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Dugard, Jaycee Lee, 1980– | Kidnapping victims—California—Biography. | Sexually abused children—California—Biography. | Young women—California—Biography. | Freedom. | Life skills. | Self-actualization (Psychology) | BISAC: BIOGRAPHY & AUTOBIOGRAPHY / Personal Memoirs. | BIOGRAPHY & AUTOBIOGRAPHY / Women. | SELF-HELP / Abuse.
Classification: LCC HV6574.U6 D8 2016 (print) | LCC HV6574.U6 (ebook) | DDC 364.15/4092 [B]—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016016388
ISBN 978-1-5011-4762-3
ISBN 978-1-5011-4764-7 (ebook)
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