Out of the Wood Pile: An Old Feline Friend Returns

Montana Senior News: An Old Feline Friend



Let’s be honest, we’ve all talked to our cats with the occasional meow or purring sounds. Meow isn’t the only word or way to visit with our feline friends. In Japanese we could say, “nya nya” or “ya- ong” in Korean and then there’s “näu” in Estonian. More than a decade ago, I learned you can talk to pets not in words but in visual images over long distance without a timeframe. Say what!?

A friend had talked to a telepathic pet communicator to deal with some behavior issues with her dog. Curious, I decided why not chat with my horse through this woman who said she could talk to animals. I called and made an appointment to visit. In the middle of our horse conversation, she abruptly said, “Oh, by the way, Spock wants me to tell you he’s coming back.”

Speechless and dumfounded for a few seconds, I recovered and asked how she knew about my black cat that had disappeared one night, likely an entree for one of the mountain lions that prowl through our neighborhood on the edge of a national forest south of Pocatello, Idaho. I never mentioned to her I had a cat, let alone that he was named Spock for his logic and charm.

I asked, “Well, how will I know it’s him?”

She said, “He shows me a picture of him coming out of a wood pile.”

I forgot about the call until a year later when my husband came home from having his teeth cleaned. The hygienist asked him if he knew of anyone who wanted a stray cat, an orange male tabby that her neighbor had found. That happens to be my husband’s favorite kind of cat because they’re calm, kind, quiet and loyal.

We went to meet this stray and sat on the couch waiting. The woman opened the door to her yard, and an orange flash leaped into my lap, walked in a circle, purred, plopped down and fell asleep. The best cats seem to pop into our lives when we least expect it. I asked her where she’d found the cat.

“He was coming out of my woodpile.”

Of course we took him home, and yes he had the personality of Spock and even started patrolling the yard and neighborhood, the same direction and route Spock had navigated for years. He especially remembered his cherished cat mint patch. He liked to lay on his back, clutch a stem and lick it like a lollipop, then doze into oblivion. Our daughter named him Big Cat.

He lived with us 17 years and passed away a year ago. He had an uncanny and comforting way of somehow sensing if one of us was upset. He would wake up from a nap in another room to come and sit with us.

I have no logical explanation for how Spock or Big Cat came back into our lives. The world would be boring without mystery, wouldn’t it? Besides, I suspect when he and we are ready, Spock or Big Cat will return when we least expect it. His mint patch is always there for him. Meow. — MSN



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