Life
Experiences of Bill McDonald
From the Book
"A Spiritual Warrior's Journey"
Cat Angel
We once had a very
fat and lovable tabby cat called "Critter." She belonged to my son before he
left to go into the Army and eventually off to the Gulf War. That is how my wife
and I became the caretakers of this furry feline.
Over a short period of time, Critter took over the house not by
being bossy but by being so loving. She knew how to get anything she ever wanted
just by turning on the old charm. This cat was not a fighter but definitely a
lover. She got along with all of the neighborhood cats and dogs, allowing any of
them into our yard.
When I went into the garden, she followed me all around, stopping
where and when I did. She lay or sat at my feet as I worked in the garden,
sometimes almost causing me to trip over her fat little body. She was a people
cat and loved to be around us all the time.
I had a room built into the attic space above my garage ceiling.
This little room was my sanctuary, a place where I could find quiet for prayer
and meditation periods. I put a couple of chairs in there right under the
skylight I had installed in the roof. I would sit in one chair and old Critter
often wandered up the pull-down steps and climbed onto the other chair, which
had a soft cushion on it.
She always lay there, silent and still, no matter how long I was
meditating or praying. She really enjoyed being up there with me, as evidenced
by her purring. She never left until I was finished, and we went into the house
together. If I left the stairs down when I went to work, she often wandered back
up there and sat in "her" chair.
I enjoyed her company at night the most. Her nightly routine began
when she jumped up on our mattress and pounced along from the foot of the bed to
our pillows. She circled around a few times, rubbing her furry body into our
faces before she settled down between our heads. I loved to pet her soft body,
which started her purring like a small motor. But in order to get any sleep, I
had to nudge her toward our feet, where she eventually curled up into a small
ball of fur and slept. Around four every morning, she wanted to be let outside
for her morning social time.
One day while I was away on a business trip, my wife called me with
bad news. Some stray dogs had been running loose and got into our yard. They had
attacked and killed our friendly, little tabby cat. My wife said that she was
not home when it happened. It was our neighbor who stopped the attack and took
the cat to the vet's office where she died. At least we were spared from having
to see her bloody body or hearing her cries for help. I felt an emptiness inside
because I never got to say goodbye to her. There was no closure for me.
Not long after Critter's death, something happened to help me with
my closure. I had been sleeping in late on a cold Sunday morning when I felt a
familiar bounce at the end of the mattress. It was followed by the pouncing of
little cat-like feet walking up the bed toward my head. I felt the touch of fur
on my neck and the back of my head. I could hear the loud purring and feel the
warm breathing in my ear of a cat. I reached behind my head expecting to stroke
my cat, but when I did, there was nothing there. No cat. No nothing at all.
A gentle current of energy flowed up my spine as I realized what had
happened. I knew my cat was no longer alive. Yet, I knew that what I had felt
were very real sensations. I knew then that my cat had come back just to say
goodbye in the only way a cat angel could. I felt at peace once again. I had my
closure.
#
Copyright 1990 - W. H. McDonald Jr.
