When I sat down to write this week’s article, my flame-point cat, Jasmine, joined me. I asked her, “What should we write about this week?” And, without missing a beat, she replied, “Purring!” and began to purr.
I laughed and assured her that yes, purring is important and makes those around her feel good – but that I needed a little something more for the article.
She flashed me a mind picture of Ming and Alexus – then curled up and went to sleep.
My first conscious memory of a pet visiting after death was the dog of my then-roommate. My roommate said she kept feeling her dog around her. I didn’t doubt her since I kept catching glimpses of the dog myself.
When my cat, Ming, died in 2004, I was tickled pink when I felt her jump on the bed and settle in for the night.
Her non-physical visits continued on for awhile, and then she moved on.
Now for a little background on dogs in our house: the dogs weren’t allowed to sleep on the bed, nor were they allowed to lie on our laps or sit on us (the dog on the lap means the dog is the dominant one in pack ‘lingo’).
This past January, we put down an elderly canine friend, Alexus, whose dementia progressed so far that her quality of life was gone.
When Alexus’ senility worsened, and she refused her medications, I would tease here that she wasn’t going to die on my watch.
One night – about a month or two before we had her put to sleep – I settled down in bed when I felt that familiar non-physical Ming cat jump on the bed. I greeted my old friend and asked what brought her here now.
I suddenly saw “the Light” come into the room and directly onto Alexus’ bed and onto Alexus. She was being given the chance to cross into the Light.
Alexus abruptly stood up, did a doggie “harrumph!” got out of her bed (and out of the Light), and plopped down on the hard floor. The Light disappeared; Ming purred ‘goodbye’ and left.
When the time came to put Alexus down, I was heartbroken; but she was miserable…it was time.
She was given a tranquilizer and relaxed in my lap. As she relaxed, I could see her separation begin. The non-physical self was separating from the old, tired, and worn out body.
I ‘heard’ a much younger, alert and happier Alexus tell me, light-heartedly, “See?! I DIDN’T die on your watch! I kept my promise – and that meant that YOU had to make the decision!”
I chuckled, but she wasn’t done yet; she continued on, “And I got the last say! I’m on your lap!” And with that, she turned and headed towards the Light.
Alexus’ presence has been felt by me and others around the house. She used to do a gentle leg bump with her nose when she was physically alive…and greets her friends even now the same way. And, every so often, I hear the “clack clack clack” of her nails on the hardwood floors.
by Jan Toomer
March 11, 2009