Love never dies: lessons learned from a cat

When my cat Willow left me on the Thursday before Thanksgiving, I was devastated. He had adopted Willow from a shelter 10 years earlier and she expressed her gratitude with unconditional love every day of her life. Shortly after her 10th birthday, Willow developed a malignant tumor. When my vet asked me if I wanted to give him chemotherapy, I refused. He had seen too many animals unsuccessfully treated with chemotherapy, only to die in severe pain. I told Suzi, my vet, that I would bring Willow home, love and care for her, and when the time came, I would take her back to sleep.

The time came when I least expected it, but on the Thursday before Thanksgiving, she screamed in pain and I couldn’t help but let her go. After Suzi gave Willow the second of two injections, Willow took her last breath and died in my arms. Although I thought he was prepared for his death, I sat there, sobbing uncontrollably with Willow’s lifeless body in my arms. Fortunately, my friend Scott came with me and we cried together before leaving Willow in Suzi’s care.

Several nights later, Willow visited me in my dreams. She was sitting up and looking at me with great love in her eyes. Then she disappeared. A short time later, Willow returned. A small, light-colored kitten was sitting next to him. He licked the kitten’s face and then looked at me.

When I related the dream to Scott, he suggested that perhaps Willow was telling me to find another cat with whom I could share my love. We went to the local animal shelter. I asked for a sign so that I could find the right little soul for me. At the end of the row of cages, the most beautiful Siamese mix kitten stole my heart. It was mostly white with Siamese cat markings on its face, ears, and tail. When I picked him up and held him, he saw his reflection in the polished silver finish of his cage. Immediately, it bared its teeth and hissed, as Willow had done the first time she saw her reflection in a shelter cage, 10 years ago.

Although the people who brought the kitten to the shelter named it Luccino, the name clearly didn’t fit. When I took him home the next day (after he got checked, neutered, and microchipped), I asked him what his name was. After Starlight’s name came to me, I said it out loud. He licked my face, put his head under my chin, and fell asleep in my arms.

The next morning I woke up; Starlight was still in my arms. I looked at my watch and it said 9 am. Exactly a week earlier, at 9am, he had been to the vet’s office with Willow, putting her to sleep to end her pain. And then I remembered: it was Thanksgiving. I buried my face in Starlight’s neck and wept in gratitude.

It was at that moment that I realized that there is a lot of truth in the saying: “Those we love never leave us; they live in our hearts forever.”