A good friend lost their family cat of 18 years recently. They knew the time was coming, of course, which meant they could take some time to appreciate and coddle him a bit extra, before their final goodbye.
(Pausing to do math – their cat must have joined their lives in the same era that I did. Because everything is about me, right? Ugh I’m the Worst. Friend. Ever.)
Anyway, my friend wrote that on the first night after their Beloved Cat departed, he kept hearing him.
Dreams? Familiar sounds imagined? Neighbor cats calling in the night, heretofore attributed to his own cat? All of the above?
I don’t believe in ghosts per se. I do believe there’s more in the world than we know. I believe in spirit, in soul, in eternal life and in grace through Christ.
I’ve never had a cat. I mean, I like them. I’ve watched over my sister’s cat when they go out of town and [babying tone] she’s a good girl, yes she is. But I couldn’t have a cat in my old place, and I’ve been a traveler as long as I’ve been able to. To a degree that is not conducive to pet ownership.
The previous owners of my house had cats. I assume perhaps several over the course of their decades here.
And for the first few months I lived here, every so often, just from the corner of my eye, I could almost swear I’d seen a cat dart across the next room and down the stairs.
So maybe his Beloved Cat is still nearby, in some sense, taking his time, saying his goodbyes? Or just stopping by to visit, from wherever our furry friends go next from here, to see his People?
I don’t know. But I hope these last-night mewlings are a comfort to my friend in his time of loss.