A Stolen Life

by Jaycee Dugard

  Reflection

  Blackjack lived a long life. Toward the end I took primary care of him and I was the one that found him when he died. It was very hard for me. At the time, I had made a cat enclosure which he would go in at night to keep safe, and that’s where I found him one morning. It was in 2002, he was all curled up dead and stiff. I cried a lot for him. I could tell his time was coming, though, because he was not himself for many days before that.

  A few years later, when the girls were little, I used to go outside to be by myself. Sometimes I would feel a pressure build inside of me. The need to run away would feel so heavy that in order to soothe myself, I would sit by myself outside. Not where anyone could see me—just to a point where I felt I was away and by myself. One of my favorite spots was a woodpile that was on the other side of one of the many fences in the backyard. One day I noticed that a stray cat was going back there a lot, so I sat for a long time and watched and, sure enough, out popped three little kittens. I put wet food out for them, trying to lure them out. Only one turned out to be friendly and I asked Phillip if I could keep him and he said yes. The others he took to the local pound for adoption. The one I kept was a male, long hair, he looked like a Maine coon. I named him Tucker. I think he was the first cat that I really felt was mine. Although I loved Eclipse, I never really felt she was mine. I found Tucker myself. I fed him. I made sure he was safe, I loved him deeply. He was always so sweet and affectionate and came whenever I called. Well … sometimes. I remember one evening at dinnertime, I called and called and he didn’t come for the longest time. I usually let them out during part of the day and then I put them back inside their enclosure at night by feeding them. Well, that day I called and called and was becoming very scared that I would never see him again. When there he comes over the fence and starts meowing for dinner. I was so relieved. He lived in there with a stray cat that we caught in one of those humane cat traps. We kept seeing this black stray cat around the yard and he was eating all the birds, so we decided we needed to do something. We caught him and got him fixed and I decided to keep him, too. I named him Lucky. He turned out to be a very nice cat, too. Very good personality, loved to eat! He lived with Tucker for many, many years. They were like brothers. The day they died broke my heart. To this day, even writing this right now I feel the tears coming.

  It all started the day before Halloween. I was in the office, working, when G came running in saying there were two big dogs in our backyard. I became concerned for the kids first of all and ran outside to see them for myself. As soon as I got out there, two big huskies went running back from where they had come from, which happened to be through a hole they had chewed from our neighbors’ yard to ours through two fences. I put up a piece of wood and thought that would take care of the problem; looking back, I wish so much I would have taken the time to do a better job of securing that fence, but hindsight is 20-20.

  The next day, about midmorning, I was working in the office again, when in came the kids again saying the dogs were back. This time I wasn’t as panicky. They seemed harmless to me, and I was sure as soon as I went outside they would go back over the fence. So Phillip, Nancy, the girls, and I went out to the back and shooed them back over and were getting ready to make the hole more secure so it wouldn’t happen again. Everyone was out there helping me get the dogs back over and then I turned around and went to say “Hi” to my cats, Tucker and Lucky, but they didn’t move because they were dead. I felt such devastation I don’t think I moved for a long time. Phillip saw me, then looked at them and saw the huge hole the dogs had made in the enclosure which they were in. The kids were out there, too, and hadn’t seen them yet or even realized what had happened, they just saw me sobbing and on my knees. I just couldn’t help it. I was so devastated. Phillip stayed with me while Nancy took the girls inside, I’m not sure what she told them, but I stayed outside sobbing. Phillip went over to the neighbors to let them know what happened, and I soon heard them working on the fence. Surely, they could hear me cry, too; but I just wanted them to fix the fence so it didn’t happen again to any of our other cats. I cried all day that day and several days thereafter, especially during feeding time when I didn’t have to make as many dishes as I used to; those times were especially hard and sometimes I would have A finish. I stayed in bed a lot and slept; the first night I cried so hard during the day that I got a killer sinus headache that night and wasn’t able to sleep well. It took time to get over the loss of them, especially Tucker, who I will remember forever because I found him and he loved me.

  In 2006, Nancy and I brought home two kittens on one of our thrift store outings for the girls. They were being given away in a box outside of the supermarket. We picked two out and brought them home. The girls named them Princess and Misty. Princess attached herself to my youngest daughter and would follow her around like a puppy. Misty was more of the laid-back type and spent many hours in my eldest daughter’s lap.

  Tucker

  Lucky

  We also had two dogs that used to belong to our neighbor who had months earlier fallen in his house and was moved to an elderly care facility. Phillip brought his two dogs—Mindy, a pit bull/Labrador mix and Rowdy, a German shepherd/rottweiler ball of puppy energy. We soon learned that the two dogs loved to chase cats, and since we had so many on the property, we decided to build a dog run for them. I would take them out once a day for a walk on the leash around the backyard. Rowdy would always pull, so I didn’t think anything of it when he suddenly yanked so hard on the leash and tried to pull me toward the old barn that was in the middle of the property. It was half falling down and I warned the girls multiple times to stay away from it. Rowdy was adamant about sniffing around the barn, so I gave in and let him lead me over. There was a small cutout looking into the barn and he immediately jumped up, peered inside, and started whining. I pulled him away and looked in myself and didn’t see anything at first because it was so dark in there. I finally saw some movement and discovered it was a tiny kitten. One of the strays in the area had a litter of kittens in our barn. For several days I just watched them and noticed their mother come and go a few times. I took the girls out and showed them from afar the new kittens, and they wanted to bring them in the room. I told them not yet because we really didn’t have enough money to take care of four new kittens. I didn’t know what to do. All our cats had been fixed, but it was hard to find a program in the area for free or discounted spay or neutering. After the first week I noticed that the kittens were crying a lot and I hadn’t seen their mother come back for days. I thought maybe the feral mother became scared and might have abandoned her kittens. After talking with Phillip and letting him know about the kittens, he said we should get them out of the barn and then decide what to do with them. Through that small opening, we were able to wiggle through and pull out the very weak kittens. They looked small and like they hadn’t eaten for a while. They had their teeth but appeared younger than I think they actually were. One looked like it had an eye infection and Phillip allowed me to take him to the vet if I pretended to just be his daughter. Whenever I went out, no one seemed to wonder who I was. Phillip would say it was the angels protecting us. I couldn’t help but feel I was invisible. The kittens were in good health otherwise and before we knew it they had become part of our growing kitty family.

  Unfortunately, when the girls and I were recovered and officers were sent to secure the property, Princess and Misty were not among those rescued; neither was Neo, my gray tabby whom I received on my twenty-third birthday. I feared we would never see the new kittens again either, but fortunately they were in one of the buildings and were able to be caught. It was hard to come to terms with never seeing some of the cats ever again. They were a big focus of our lives and they were family.

  I am forever grateful to Officer Beth for keeping an eye on all my cats and finding fosters for them for six months until we were able to reunite with them in January of 2010.

  • Journal Entries •

  I
n the spring of 1998, I needed an outlet for all the feelings and emotions I was keeping bottled up inside. I knew Phillip would never approve of me writing things down, but I had this compulsion to get some things down on paper. When I was seven or eight, my dream was to be a writer or a veterinarian. I love writing stories and have made many up in my mind over the years. I have tried to instill in my kids a love of reading and even encouraged them to write their own stories. Deciding to share my journal entries was a decision I have thought about long and hard and have come to the conclusion that it is important for me to include my feelings and thoughts during my time in captivity. A lot of them show how much I wanted my freedom, how much I wanted to see my mom, and bring to light my conflicted feelings for Phillip and Nancy Garrido.

  MAY 3, 1998

  Who am I? At this very moment I don’t know. I don’t even know who I want to be. I do know who I was. I was a kid who always wanted to be accepted, a part of the crowd. I’m always trying to think of the right thing to say to someone. I wanted to be liked, so I could fit in. When I would start a new school, I had been in 4 different ones by the time I was 11, it was hard for me to be the new kid. Not knowing anyone and playing on the playground by myself was not something I looked forward to, so would always try to find a friend. But I was very shy to do that. They usually made friends with me. In my last school in G. Lake Tahoe at a school called Meyers elementary this one girl came up to me, I was new of course and I was alone on the swings, I remember thinking to myself, Why am I not trying to make friends with the other kids, I hate being alone! But for some reason I just could not go up to a group of kids and ask to play with them, too shy I guess. But anyway to get back to the story; she sits next to me on the other swing and starts talking to me and we become friends, she was very nice. I think she was from Russia or Ukraine, her name was Rowan. Then she introduces me to one of her friends, her name was Shawnee who become my “best friend in Tahoe.” She was tall for her age and I was small so I kind of thought of her as my protector. She loved horses and would draw them for me. We had many great days together. And she had a dog named Rowdy who would come on walks with us in the back hills where she lived with her grandma; I loved that dog and was often envious of her because I wanted my own dog so bad. I did have two dogs when I lived with my grandma and grandpa, but the first one they told me they had to get rid of her, her name was Tisha. I cried for days, I remember going outside to go play with her and I couldn’t find her, I ran back inside to tell Ninny and Poppy and that’s when they told me that they gave her away ’cause she was tearing up the backyard, I was so devastated, looking back I think the worst thing was them not telling me about it and me discovering her all of a sudden gone. After that they took me to Disneyland and bought me a stuffed dog that looked just like her, I slept with that dog every night. I wonder what happened to the stuffed animal.

  NOVEMBER 3, 1998

  I think I want to live by the ocean one day. Have a little cottage overlooking the ocean. I could walk down the steps right onto the warm sand, hear the waves crashing on the rocks, and watch the seagulls in the clear blue sky.

  I miss her. I try so hard to see her face in my mind, but I can’t remember. I hate myself for not remembering. Some memories are so blurry it’s like a dream or something.

  I keep remembering this one time when I was, oh I don’t know, maybe about 7 or 8, anyway I was playing with my best friend, Jessie, and my mom was taking a shower. We decided we wanted to play hide-and-seek. I went into the bathroom and told her* we were going to hide and when she got out of the shower I wanted her to come find us. I guess the shower water was so loud she didn’t hear me, but I didn’t know at the time and thought she heard me. We hid in the closet. When she came out of the shower and saw that we weren’t in the house she must have thought the worst, like someone had taken us because we were gone. I didn’t understand her fear at the time. I do now. At the time she was frantic, we were still hiding in the closet we heard her call our names, but I thought she was playing our game, so we stayed hidden. Then I heard her yell and run out the door. When we finally came out she was outside yelling for us and her robe had come undone; she was so hysterical she didn’t even notice. When she saw me standing at the door she raced to me and squeezed me tight I thought she would never let me go. I started to cry. I said I was sorry but I thought she had heard me.

  DECEMBER 16, 1998

  I would give my soul for a picture of her. No, No, No not my soul because nobody can give their soul away … can they? I don’t know, maybe we share our souls with loved ones throughout our lifetimes. Is that possible? I don’t know. Does that kind of love exist? I know I feel enormous love every day for my girls. Even though they don’t know I’m their mom, I still feel this unseen connection with them. Does she feel the same way about me? Does she know I’m still somewhere out here? I wonder if she knows I miss her. I can’t bear to think of her sometimes it’s just too painful for me.

  DECEMBER 22, 1998

  I want things to be different, but I would never change a thing about my life. I would never turn back the clock and change the way things worked out. I love my kids. I wouldn’t say I have scars from it, but I do have a few scratches! Like the way I feel about touching. I don’t know how I would react to a man touching me after what I have been through. Family touching is different, it doesn’t bother me as much when he hugs me anymore. I tell myself he is not touching me in a sexual way; it is more a fatherly way now. Not that I would know what that is like. I want to find love one day. The kind of love I read about, but it sounds so unlucky and unrealistic to hope for that. All Phillip talks about is all the horrible people in the world. I don’t think the kind of love I dream about is real. That’s okay, though, I still have love in my life from my girls.

  MARCH 9, 2002

  I want to make myself a better person. The first thing I want to improve is my garden. I’ve really been neglecting it lately. I don’t really know where to begin. I haven’t been very good at following through lately. I just cannot find the motivation I need. That is another thing I would like to change.

  JUNE 2, 2002

  I miss her. I wonder what she thinks about. I wonder if she ever thinks about me. Sometimes I hope that she doesn’t because I don’t want her to be sad and sometimes I wonder if she is happier that I’m not around anymore. I don’t like that thought!

  I have all these memories; some are cloudy, but they are all there in my head. I think at first I tried to shut down all the memories that are fuzzy for me now. I remember one time he [“he” means Phillip, I tried to leave out names in case Phillip ever read it] was asleep and I was sitting next to him and I felt like I was reliving the time I spent with my aunt and uncle and their kids, my cousins. The memories were so vivid I must have sat there for hours waiting for him to wake up just thinking of my old life. I don’t know why I thought back to that moment, time in my life. Maybe because that was another time in my life I felt as lonely as I do now. It was hard being away from her. No one would listen when I said I didn’t want to stay there. It’s not that my aunt didn’t want me there. I felt I didn’t belong with them. I felt like an outsider, I wanted to go home!

  Does she miss me?

  JULY 16, 2002

  What is the difference between the heart and the soul? I think there’s a big difference. My heart is an organ in my body. My soul is me. People in my life have helped my soul grow and continue to grow. So many people do not listen to their soul. I know it’s just a word, but that’s how we have learned to communicate; with words and through behavior. It’s only human to use words to describe what can never be touched. My cats, Tucker, Lucky, and Blackjack share a hold on my soul. I love them with my soul. That sounds silly as I write it but it’s what I feel for them. They make me happy and mad sometimes at the same time. Blackjack is playful and faithful. Tucker is too curious for his own good; he is also too lovable for his own good. Lucky is … well, I don’t quite know how to describe him. When he wants
to be scratched, but when I go to scratch him he backs away. I understand he must have had a hard life as a stray before he came to live with me. I know he likes me because he sticks around even though he could leave anytime. I know he stays ’cause I feed him but I feel deep down it’s more than that. I love it when they all follow me around; it makes me feel good. I can’t describe the feeling for some reason, but I do feel important, like they actually want to be with me. Boy, that sounds really silly. I need to do more for them.

  AUGUST 22, 2002

  I’m sitting here wanting to write so many things, but I don’t know where to begin. I cried a little last night. Not a lot, just a little. I was just feeling terrible. Sometimes I want to run away from everything. I would live in my own world. I would have super powers. Like the power to heal people and animals. I would also be able to hear the thoughts of animals and people, too. I would be able to understand animals. I would travel around my world on a horse the color of fire with a mane of snow. I would be a heroine in my world. I would travel everywhere helping people along the way with their problems and there would be only happiness in my wake. Perhaps I would meet my soul mate on one of my journeys and we would continue the journey together. Before the journey ended we would have to find some kind of evil and conquer it together and live happily ever after. Boy, if only I could live in my mind. I know I would never run away. I love the girls too much to ever leave them. We either go together or not at all. So for now it’s not at all.