In 2008, I was 30 and alone.
I had just finished grad school, was struggling to find a teaching job, and was working part-time at Sylvan Learning Center. I spent my spare time volunteering at the animal shelter, gently petting the sick cats.
Loneliness crept in quietly but often. My therapist encouraged me to get a pet — “Someone to come home to,” she said. And one day, I walked into the SPCA in Raleigh and saw a tortoiseshell cat perched high above the chaos on a wooden catwalk. Her name was Jazelle, after a Disney character. I renamed her Jazzy — it just fit.
She was about 2-four years old (I can’t remember), declawed (a requirement for cats in my apartment complex), and unlike the kittens rolling around on the floor, she watched from above with calm curiosity. She was the one I chose — or maybe she chose me.
From that day on, Jazzy was mine.
She rode in the car with me from Raleigh to Beaufort to visit my parents. She lived with me at my parents’ house, then in the first home I bought. Later, she moved in with Lee — and, actually, she moved in first. He wasn’t sure about her at first, but it didn’t take long before she became his favorite. He gave her a thousand nicknames, played with her, chased her up the stairs, and built pillow forts just for her. She adored him.
For 18 years, Jazzy was part of my life. She was noisy in the best way — her meows had meaning: “The litter box needs scooping,” “I don’t like this food,” or “I’m about to throw up.” In her older years, the meows turned to little squeaky “cracks,” a sound Lee and I both came to love.
A year ago, the vet told us her kidneys and liver were starting to show signs of age — nothing surprising for a 20 plus-year-old cat. One day I noticed she was drinking a lot but not eating, and something told me things were changing. From that point on, I brought her in twice a week for fluids. Our vet tech, Drew, was kind and gentle. And soon, Jazzy’s sass came back — hissing, swatting, and vocalizing her full opinion, just like always.
We moved her litter box to the kitchen to make it easier. We fed her on paper plates on the floor. We didn’t make vacation plans. I didn’t want to leave her.
We had a family vacation coming up in late July that I had been dreading. It was planned a year ago. I didn’t want to leave her for a week — not now. I started praying, asking God to please let her pass peacefully at home before we left, if that was His will.
On Monday, during her regular hydration appointment, I heard crying through the walls of the vet office. I somehow knew what was happening on the other side of the wall. Looking back, I believe God was preparing me.
Drew noticed Jazzy didn’t have her usual spark that day. Something had shifted.
Then came Thursday.
I noticed her breathing had changed. Lee had noticed, too. I called the vet and made an appointment for 10 a.m.
Before we left, I got down on my knees and prayed for strength — for peace, for comfort, for the courage to do the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Lee met me there and never left my side.
We were brought into the same room where I’d heard crying just days earlier. Drew came out of surgery just to say goodbye. The vet was gentle. God answered my prayers.
Jazzy went peacefully.
Later that evening, there was a rainbow.
She was the first animal I’ve ever had to put down.
She was also the first pet who was mine.
She saw me through every version of myself —
from single and lost…
to strong and loved.
She was with me in the loneliness, and she helped carry me through.
Why am I sharing this in a health and wellness newsletter?
Because loneliness isn’t just an emotion — it’s a public health issue.
It can raise stress levels, weaken the immune system, and impact heart health. It’s something many of us carry quietly — and sometimes it shows up when life doesn’t look the way we thought it would.
Pets can’t fix everything, but they can fill spaces in our hearts that feel empty. They give us someone to care for, someone to talk to, and someone who’s always glad we came home.
If you’re feeling lonely right now, I see you. I’ve been there.
Whether it’s a pet, a person, or a purpose — I hope you find something that gives you that kind of love.
And if you’re craving connection, support, or simply someone to walk alongside you in your wellness journey — I’m here.
💛 Reach out and book a free consultation.
Let’s find what lights you up again.
In loving memory of Jazzy.
The cat who helped me feel at home in my own life.
