Apologies in advance for a slightly down-heartened post here, but I really need to let go of some emotions and some words that are circling round my head.
Jazz is missing. She was last home on Monday 2nd July 2018. She's been seen down by the farm on the main road once since then, but the lady was not sure what day. After that, she's not been seen. So we consider her to be missing from the 9th.
She will quite often take off overnight, or for a couple of days, but the longest before has been 5 days, and that time we actually had to go and bring her back as she was all disorientated in the woods up the road. So, it doesn't look good and it is taking a lot of my energy to stay positive, and try and keep hopeful.
Jazz is wearing a pink collar, with a bell and a barrel with our contact details in. Also on the collar is a recording GPS tracker. It isn't a gadget that we can log in to and see where she is, but we can download her routes when she is back and see where she has been. We have had this for a few years, so are quite confident of her local haunts - Having checked those places, she's nowhere to be seen. The battery will have run down by now, but if she is handed in somewhere, we'll be able to see where she went in that first week!
Now, she's a bit feisty. She'll certainly hunt and find enough food, but it has been so hot during this time (cooled off now) that I worry she hasn't found water. I keep having to remind myself that there is actually nothing we can do. Just wait. I am not good at waiting..
How did Jazz come in to our lives?
Well, that's a story! Since I was 14, I was a huge fan of a band. I always liked music, live, recorded, playing, whatever. All types from classical to Cradle of Filth almost. But this one band just amazed me. They didn't sound like any other band to me, and the words were just what I needed to hear. There was an amazing community that came with the band too - I got quite involved in their fanbase, in their discussion forums and met a lot of the internet community at the gigs and shows. We even had gatherings without shows, people would travel all across the country, even from other countries, to go to meetups. There was a few of us would sit and drink with the band at some of the smaller shows. All in all, I think I have seen the band around 26 times over 15 years, ranging from pubs, to stadiums and festivals, and made so many real friends courtesy of the forum. I was never a groupie, I never wanted into the band in that way, but had an immense level of respect for them and their music.
Then it all changed. The singer was arrested for horrendous crimes which I will not detail here. I never said whether I believed he was guilty or innocent, I strongly believe that courts should decide that and everyone deserves the right to a fair trial. However, not long before the trial, he confessed that he was in fact guilty and was sentenced to around 36 years in prison. I struggle to this day to accept and move on. My (almost) idol, someone who had effectively been "with me" throughout half of my life, was evil. Many of us had thought he was a bit odd at times, but never to that extent... It felt like everything I had known for 15 years was bullsh. Lies. All fake. I lost all trust in people, I couldn't speak to anyone, I would have moments where I would just start shaking with, I don't know, fear? Hatred? Disgust? I have hugged this guy!!
His actions have completely wiped the band off the face of the Earth. Their music, their careers, poor guys, it's all over. Gone. And so much negativity associated with that name and brand. They never deserved that. I am immensely grateful that I stopped myself from getting that tattoo a while back. So pleased I am not physically branded! I am forever in debt to the bloke who talked me out of that!!
The internet community gradually dispersed, and while I am still in touch with one or two people, the connection is completely tainted.
So... Horrible situation with that, I had a bit of a mental crisis and struggled to cope with this loss of identity, loss of 15 years of my life. I went to counsellors, I went to therapists, and had all sorts of coping mechanisms thrust upon me. About 18 months down the line, it was suggested that I get a pet, so that I have something to look after and focus on, as I was still not quite "Jenny" again.
We had a great deal of discussion and decided that yes, we would get a cat. A kitten. And in January 2014, we found Pepper and adopted her.
And it worked... I started to get a bit of focus back, started to take care of myself again... Until July, and she went missing. This led to a major set back for me. We're talking no sleep, not eating and then binging, proper fits, sickness, periods of actual exhaustion and being unable to even make a cup of tea. I was a zombie. I threw myself into a campaign to find Pepper - Leaflets for the entire village, internet posts everywhere. Driving around for hours shouting for her. Going out late at night looking in bushes til the small hours of the morning. Constantly checking social media, cat re-homing sites, the SSPCA... Most people were supportive, I had a lot of positive vibes from internet strangers, and everyone said "don't give up hope".
After a few false leads, some nasty phone calls, and around 4 weeks of constant searching, I came across an advert on the Cats Protection site for a kitten called Hope. And she was beautiful. My (now) husband was working away, and I just phoned up and got a home visit arranged, which we passed. And I asked the husband when he got back to the UK.... Do you think we could meet Hope?
So we did. And we totally fell for her. She came home with us that very day, and within a couple of hours, we'd decided. She is our bit of hope, but that's not what we'll call her. She hadn't had a great upbringing, so we thought she wouldn't mind a change. And we called her Jasmine. Which was shortened to Jazz within minutes!
I will never, NEVER give up hope.
Never. xxx
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