Our family had to say goodbye to Jack yesterday. I have dreaded having to make this post for a very long time. I could probably write a whole book about Jack and his antics. How does one summarize the life of the best cat that ever lived?

It was June 2008 when he came into our life. The local humane society was having a "Half off adoptions" special. The cat rooms were packed with cats, including cages off to the sides. That is where a little brown tabby reached through his cage and pawed at my then boyfriend, now husband. This cat picked his human. He came home with us to our first apartment.

Jack was a very interesting choice for a first pet for my husband. From the day he came home, Jack was a high energy, attention demanding little scamp. If Jack felt like he wasn't getting enough attention, he would let you know. He pulled things off of walls, knocked things over, or tore things up, all while looking you in the eye. When scolded, he would march up to you and start headbutting you, as if to say "Oh, I'm sorry, was that ME? Well I guess you need to love me more!", all while purring his little head off.

There are SO many things we had to do to the house to prevent his little attention seeking rampages. Lamps had to be tethered to walls. Weights had to be placed by doors so he couldn't shut himself in rooms. Cardboard had to be taped to the underside of our desks to block off cables. Cables that couldn't be blocked had to be wrapped in cable protectors, otherwise those cables were toast. Speaking of toast, all bread had to be secured. ANYTHING. BREAD. The bread box we bought was SPECIFICALLY purchased so he couldn't break into it. Special, cat-proof containers had to be purchased for hamburger buns. At one point, a child lock had to be installed on the pantry, after he learned how to open the MAGNETICLY CLOSED DOORS, and chewed through an entire box of pop-tarts. When bringing in groceries, the bread had to IMMEDIATELY be put away. If not, an entire bag of hamburger buns could be eviscerated by the time the groceries were brought inside. Oh, and you also had to watch any open doors like a hawk, because he would dart outside before you could blink.

Jack was, without a doubt, the smartest cat I have ever had in my life. He knew this. He gave no fucks.

And yet, he never hissed at any of the many kittens that were introduced to his household. He always welcomed them, as long has he got his tribute of kitten food. We took in a litter of abandoned kittens several years ago. Jack took one look at the box of mewling little puff-balls, looked at us, and noped the hell out. His body language clearly reading "Not the father, not my problem." When we adopted my little tuxedo, Alice, he slipped into the room where she was first released into the house, separate from the other cats. Alice immediately puffed up and hissed at him. He looked at her little display of dominance, his body language read "Whatever", and he marched straight to the kitten food, and started munching.

Nothing ever bothered this cat. He new he was king of this house, and every other creature knew it.

And yet his majesty loved his humans so very much. Especially my husband. My husband was JACK'S human. He spent 90% of his time during the day either passed out on the back of my husband's chair, sprawled out on the keyboard, or curled up in the basket on the desk. When Jack REALLY wanted attention, he'd craw into my husband's arms, and demand to be held like a baby. Jack always had to make his presence known when on the back of the chair, by curling his paw on my husband's shoulder, as if to say "I'm here human. I love you."

All of this, and so much more is what made Jack a truly special cat.

I'm not going to lie, the house just isn't the same today without him. I realized this as I took my medicine, my pill organizer attached with Velcro to the bathroom counter, otherwise Jack would knock it off the counter, sending pills everywhere. I let the dog out, instinctively looking to make sure the door is clear of a Jack Ninja, waiting for a chance to escape. I notice the many containers in the kitchen, keeping the bread safe from a ravenous Jack that would shred them in a heartbeat if they weren't sealed away. He keptQ us on our toes. He always made sure that his presence was known. He was a devious, obnoxious, supervillain of a cat, and we loved him for it.

Life just won't be as exciting without him. I love you Jack. I already miss you. I'd give anything just to have you back to shred one more bag of blueberry muffins. I will miss that "innocent" headbonk after a crime. You were truly, the most special cat that ever lived.