phenomena
Over the years I’ve received hundreds of spiritual and paranormal letters about animals, but one animal stands out among all the others … cats. Maybe it’s because I’ve been such a big cat owner myself. Strangely, this is the first time in 35 years that I haven’t owned a cat at all. My fur babies are all now in heaven, but don’t feel sad for me; they all visit from the other side … but more of that later!
If you’ve read my other books, you’ll know how important cats have been to me. My last pets – Tigger, the fat ginger tomcat, and Magik, both of whom we’ve already met – used to sit in my office all day long. Actually they would follow me from room to room, so if I stood up to make a cup of coffee or pop to the bathroom, I’d probably trip over them on my way out of the door. All cat owners will totally relate to this! There is a type of psychic connection between cat owners and their pets. We understand them and it goes far beyond the subtle clues they leave.
Cats look at you and communicate with their own language … You mean you don’t hear it? I bet you do. Like me, I’m sure you reply to your cats as if they have spoken. Does your conversation go something like this?
Yes, hello, did you want me, cat? Aww, you’ve come for a little fuss? Okay then. Don’t look at me with those sad eyes. Are you hungry? Yes, you are … yes, you are. Come on then, let’s go and get you something to eat … [Cat jumps up and walks immediately to its bowl!]
But this conversation has two sides. There is your side of the conversation, and the side going on inside your head, the cat’s reply. It goes something like this (cats don’t speak in full sentences, I’m guessing, and probably don’t use grammar):
Cat: … Where going?
You: I’m only walking into the kitchen. Why are you following me?
Cat: … I come too?
You: I’m only getting a cup of tea and coming right back. Why are you following me?
Cat: … I still come? … Miss you …
You: Daft cat, get out from under my feet …
Cat: … Coming back soon? I come too, yes?
You: I’m going back into the lounge now, are you coming?
Cat: … Okay. I miss you. I love you, human … Feed me now? Feed me, feed me, feed me? Food now, okay? No food? Fuss? Okay …
As a pet owner, you have an understanding of how your cat (or other animals) communicates with you, with us, their human. Certainly this simple language is exchanged. You don’t have to be psychic to know it happens. You ‘hear the voice’ and assume you are imagining it, but what if you really are ‘hearing’ your cat’s thoughts (though not their words exactly)? Later on I’ll be sharing my encounter with an animal psychic – you’ll be surprised, as I was, at the results!
I work alone in my little office/writing room in my apartment near the sea in Cornwall. This is the first home in years where we (my husband John and I) haven’t owned a cat at all, and it seems strange that this is the time when I happened to be due to write the book about cat experiences. Tigger and Magik were my loving friends in five different houses. I was lucky enough to have my own writing rooms in each of those homes, and also a big wrap-around office desk. Often the cats would sit one on each side of me as I typed – like constant bookends, they kept me company and seemed to bring me a sense of calm and contentment. It was as if they were fulfilling their life’s mission: to look after me while I performed my role as author, sharing messages of love from the afterlife. They played their part, preventing me from spending long hours alone. In my modern and much smaller apartment, I now have a very small desk. The larger desk I once owned seemed too big and lonely without my little friends to share it with.
As I explained, when Magik passed away it was completely unexpected and I was devastated. But it happened when I was creating a set of inspirational cards called ‘Messages from Heaven’. I was able to include a photograph of Magik on one of the cards, a memorial to her and a constant reminder of how she would always be there for me, though in another form – a spirit, no longer in an earthly body.
Tigger became ill more slowly. He was young, too – just 10 years old – and it was I who made the decision to conclude his life. My own angels had warned me several days before that it was ‘his time’, so I prepared myself. But who wants to hear such a message? I’d sort of felt the message in my gut. It’s hard to explain, but it’s as if the idea of it just kept occurring to me over and over again.
I questioned the voices in my head: ‘If it’s time for Tigger to go, I’ll know when because he will get hit by a car …’ I gestured. Maybe I thought it would never happen because he was always so good with traffic, so experienced. I suppose I thought it would be easier somehow. If he got hit by a car, the decision wouldn’t be mine. The car would be a clear, big and obvious sign. I don’t feel I wished this on him. That was furthest from my mind. But when he got knocked down by a passing car the very next day, I was still stunned … and it wasn’t any easier at all … but I knew my voices were correct and I took him along to the vet. It was time to say goodbye, but luckily not forever. Both of my cats came back to see me one last time after they had died.
I wrote about how my cats popped back to ‘say goodbye’ in one of my other books, but if I may, I’d like to share it here too. I was asleep one day when my dream cleared to one side, as it were, and I became very lucid and aware in my mind while my body slept on. I felt a cat rub up against my legs and, assuming it was Tigger (who was still alive at the time), I reached down to pick him up. I rubbed the soft fur against my face and it was only at this time that I realised the soft silky down was actually Magik’s. Tears ran down my cheek as I understood that she had come back to say goodbye. I kissed her little face in joy, and then she struggled to get down. I placed her on the floor and she ran out of the cat flap. We were in the room where she’d spent her final two hours – the conservatory of our old house. She, or someone in charge, had chosen this familiar room as our final meeting place.
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