Toe in the Water

Jinx

Jinx

Jinx was our first family cat. Not only was she the first of our cats, she was also family in that she didn’t belong to anyone. I was very young when we acquired her and I don’t think I ever knew who had introduced her to the household. But I’m certain she came before the first of our dogs.

She never chose one of us as her special person. Essentially aloof in character, she would accept petting from any of us but only for short periods. Mostly, she kept to herself. In a way, she was the most catlike of our cats in this acceptance of our usefulness to her but rejection of too much interaction.

As a Manx, she had no tail but, once you were used to this, it became obvious that she was quite pretty. She was an attractive mix of white and grey in stripes, almost like an albino tiger. This gave her a smokey, misty look that is quite rare in cats.

I have no idea where the name Jinx came from. She showed no tendency to bring bad luck and proved tough enough to outlast many of our dogs. They accepted her as the prior occupant of the household but kept her on her toes with frequent rough and tumble games. She put up with these in spite of her obvious dislike of her dignity being ruffled so often and the dogs never did any physical harm to her. You could say that she had the last laugh, spending her last few years in a brief interlude when we had no dogs.

She lived about sixteen years. In the end, she went in a way that was typical of her ghostlike quality, disappearing quietly one day and never being seen again. Writing about her has made me realise just how important her colouring was to the whole concept of Jinx. Being the colour of mist, she lived a life slightly apart from us, always present but barely noticeable, a faint impression of a wraithlike shadow at the edge of the family. It’s almost as if she didn’t live with us - she haunted us.

And that was Jinx.

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