Return of the D-word.

On Monday night we received a message from Nanny. Kizzy, Nanny's cat has been put to sleep. Kizzy was 20 years old, she had very bad arthritis, was going blind, deaf, and was very, very grouchy. It seems her kidneys finally gave out and it was all just too much. Nanny is both relieved and sad. Kizzy was becoming more of a burden by the day but she'd still been a member of the family for 20 years or so.

Considering how emotional Jack tends to get about this particular subject Helen and I thought it best to break the news to him before he got to Nanny's and started looking for her. Nanny was likely to still be upset. So we sat him down and explained that Kizzy was up in heaven now. She was very old and poorly and now she was better and happy up in heaven.
Jack took the news as we expected.
When will come back?
She's not coming back.
*sob* but I will miss her.
I know honey, we all miss her.
But I loved her.
Jack broke into a series of cries and wails that lasted for about 15 minutes. Kizzy! Kiiiiiizzzzzzy! I miss you, come back down.


The next morning Jack came into our room still thinking about Kizzy.
I still miss Kizzy.
I know you do. But we need you to be strong for Nanny.
*sob*
I know you're sad hun but if you keep thinking about how much you miss her you'll just make yourself miserable. You need to think about how much you loved her and how happy she is up in heaven.
I was mizablee all night long.
I'm sorry hun.
Last week, Kizzy scratched me and I cried. I put my hand up and she went *swipe* and scratched me. Then I put my hand up and she went *swipe swipe* and she couldn't get me.
She was pretty grouchy.  Since Jack started visiting Nanny Kizzy made it clear that he wasn't welcome. If she wasn't hiding somewhere in the house she was hissing and spitting whenever he got near her.

But sometimes when she wasn't being grumpy, I petted her.
She was pretty fluffy.
In 5 years Dylan is going to go to heaven, and I'm going with him.
Dylan is a toy Jack, he'll never die. I think you've got more than five years hun.
Like, two fives?
Like 85.
85?! I'll be like a million million then!

I've said before that I don't like Jack thinking about death. I guess I'm happy that he's able to understand it on some level and able to cope but at the same time it still bothers me that he's got any concept at all. Jack is a very sensitive and sentimental child, he mourns everything that's lost. Just a few days ago he spent 10 sorrowful minutes telling me how much he misses his old bed. Every time he sees a picture of Grandma, Grandpa or any of his cousins, Adell particularly he's reminded of how much he misses them.