Fur children

I’ll never forget that feeling . . . feeling as though the air had been sucked out of my chest as 15-year-old cat, Sam, opened up his eyes one final time, blinked at me, and reached out his paw to say “goodbye.”  I watched my dad and my cousin as they sadly carried Sam out the door for the last time.  It was the evening of March 15, 2006.  I hadn’t cried that hard for a long time, and wouldn’t cry that way for another three or so years.

The next day, I was just going through the motions, as so many of us do when we’re grieving.  Yes, I may be a medium, but I still had to go through the process of grief.  This was my little brother, my best friend, my fur buddy . . . I didn’t think another fur kid could come into my life.  No one could replace my Sammy boy.

Then my dad told me I “had” to go to the local SPCA, as when he was there that day, he saw a cat who he knew I would love.  “Her name is Kelly – she’s about a year old, and it says on her cage, I love to snuggle.”

How could I possibly think about bringing another cat into my home?  Yet, I found myself driving to the SPCA after work, exhausted from a sleepless night and a day filled with tears.

The very last cage I saw, tucked away in the corner, was Kelly.  I started to talk to the sleepy little girl curled up in the corner of the cage.  “Hi Kelly . . . I just lost my best friend, not even 24 hours ago.  I don’t really think or even know if I’m ready for someone else to come into my home.  So tell me, sweetheart . . . am I supposed to bring you home with me?”

She got up and walked to the door of the cage . . . blinked . . . and reached out her paw at me in a wave – just like Sam. 

The rest, as they say, is history.

She came home the day after St. Patrick’s Day.  And, since we didn’t know when exactly her birthday was, and since her name was Kelly, that very day ~ St. Patrick’s Day ~ was as good as any to celebrate her birthday.

Tomorrow, she turns a big 5.  We have reading scheduled with our favorite animal communicator, Aileen, after I get home from work.  And, perhaps, she may even get a little tuna or shrimp for dinner . . . she deserves it.

Happy Birthday, Kelly girl . . . I love you!!!