Jessica Weber

Jessica joined our family on January 11, 1992, as a street walker. My husband Jim and I were living in Denver and had found a purse in the middle of Leetsdale Drive. We took it to our neighborhood police station in Glendale. He sat in the car, while I went into the station. As I waited to talk to someone, I heard a cat screaming its head off, and voices in each office down the hall, say that, no, they didn't want it. Then I saw her--a petite black and white, wide-eyed cat with a voice five times as large as she was. I asked if I could hold her, and she purred. I was told that she was found following kids to school, and that no one claimed to own her. It happened all the time, they said, as this was an apartment district where people moved out and abandoned their pets. We already had two cats at home. My cousin had made me a hooked rug for Christmas with a silouette of a black cat on it. Looking at Jessica from above, she was solid black, and that image had been burned into my subconscious--I needed the cat to go with the rug. So we took her. She stood her ground with our two male cats and became great friends with our gray tabby named Fritz. She never liked orange, though, and over the years she had to share our home with two orange cats. When we moved to Buena Vista, she loved prowling the property, but never wandered far. She liked to follow us when we walked on our land. Her favorite pasttime was to roll in the dirt. Never shy and retiring, always outspoken and clear about what she wanted, Jessica made an impression on all who knew her.