In 1997, I headed to Miami for the weekend so that my friend Phyllis Vega and I could work on our book Power Tarot. Megan, who was eight at the time, went with me, and the plan was that she would play with Phyllis’s granddaughter, Jessie, who was the same age, while Phyllis and I worked. That part of the equation worked well. The part that was unpredictable was that Megan and I stopped at a pet store.
This is a dangerous thing to do when you’re the sort of people who are taken in by puppy breath, by kitties who want play. Megan and I walked out of that store with a five-week-old tiger kitten, her gray and silver fur as fine and distinctive as silk. Tiger gave Megan and Jessie plenty of focus on that weekend.
For the longest time, Tigerlily ruled the roost. She occupied the foot of our bed, was my dad’s faithful daytime companion when he lived with us. Then we moved and boarded her and our two other cats at the vet during the chaotic move twenty miles or so northwest of where we’d been living for 12 years.
For the last thirteen years, Tiger lived here in our home with the lush backyard, chasing lizards, snoozing in patches of sunlight during the winter, and always eating whatever we gave her. She liked Megan’s coffee yogurt, bits of broccoli, tuna in any form, cheese, salad dressing, popcorn. She was our feline vacuum cleaner.
During the 11 years we had our golden retriever, Jessie, Tiger was friendly – but never chummy. The day we adopted Noah, Tiger ran outside and stayed out in the backyard for two days until she determined that Noah wasn’t going to hurt or chase her. Noah couldn’t care less about chasing cats. Cats are part of his landscape, his world, as intrinsic to his life as the dog park and treats.
Tiger gradually warmed up to Noah to the point where the two of them would share a couch, a lick, a nudge. As Tiger ailed for the last several weeks- she was nearly 17 – Noah was attentive, solicitous. They even sat on the couch together. He knew, as did we, that she was dying. But I thought that as long as she was eating and drinking and didn’t seem to be in pain, I would let nature take its course.
But it eventually got to the point where I no longer knew what to feed her because she had trouble eating everything. She tried, but she couldn’t chew and then she would start choking.
This morning, I gave her some cheerios in milk, mixed in well-squashed sardines and she ate what she could. When I went out into the kitchen, she was foraging in the cabinet where the cat food is kept and glanced around at me. She emitted a soft, pathetic meow and I realized she was starving to death. A bib of milk and food covered her snout and chest and she suddenly reminded me of my dad in his final days, when the mere act of lifting a fork to his mouth was nearly impossible. I knew it was time.
I was visibly upset when I walked into the vet’s office. On the sign in sheet, I entered the reason for the visit: needs to be put to sleep. The clerk, a woman who has worked for Ira- the vet – ever since we started going to him years ago – came over with a box of Kleenex. “Listen,” she said quietly. “A friend of mine had a near-death experience several years ago. When she returned, she was psychic, she sees spirits – of humans and animals. Tigerlily will be back.”
Then she told me that the other day, she’d found an injured kitten – part of one rear leg had been torn off, possibly by a hawk, and the other leg was broken. She rushed it to the office and they were able to save it. “We lose one, we save another.”
In the examining room, Ira’s son, who’s in his early twenties and is studying to be a vet, explained that Tiger would be sedated first, then put to sleep. “I took a double take when I saw her name,” he said.
“Why?”
“Well, the other day one of our employees rushed in with this wounded kitten. We fixed her one broken leg, but had to amputate the other to save her. She’s doing fine now. I named her Tigerlily.”
Stunned at the synchronicity, at the strange comfort it provided, I just looked at him, then managed to stammer, “Wow. That’s an uplifting coincidence. Thank you for that.”
“Hey,” he said softly, passing me the box of Kleenex. “They come into life and they leave life. You’re doing the right thing. Seventeen is a long life for a cat.”
I stayed with her for the sedation and the final shot, petting her, whispering to her, reassuring her that Jessie, Whiskers, and even Kali the bird would be there to greet her. And that she would be back.
We buried her under a grapefruit tree in our backyard. Rob put a large sidewalk tile over the grave so it won’t be dug up by dogs or other predators, and now I’d like to find some pretty flowers to put around it.
Thank you, Tiger, for being my companion for so many years.
My deepest sympathy on your loss. I know how hard it is to not only make the call on euthanasia, but to be strong enough to hold them as they leave. But, honestly, would we have it any other way? The boundless love you have for Tigerlily will always remain. Tigerlilies, planted around the gravesite with love, would undoubtedly thrive.
Thank you, innervibe! I have a potted plant out there now, but I love the idea of tigerlilies!
So sorry for your loss, (sniff.) This synchro was beautiful, however.
How blessed she was to have your family for her long life. I just wish our animals lived longer…
They definitely should live longer! Thanks, Nancy.
Oh 17 years…that’s a connection that won’t ever be lost. Love to you all. xx
so very sorry for ya’lls loss…but what wonderfully beautiful memories you have of your time with tigerlily and i know that she will continue on with you from “there” – perhaps she might even become the inspiration for a book on pet spirits/communications – and how lucky she was to have such a wonderful human family – as you were to have her for so long – caring and healing thoughts to you all –
In my condolences in the e-mails yesterday I mentioned a book “Cleo” by a woman named Helen Brown who I met at the BBWF in 2011.
https://www.amazon.com/CLEO-The-Cat-Mended-Family/dp/080653303X
I just wanted to recommend it here to other readers as well,because this book is such a wonderful book on how an animal will come into your life as an almost angelic being to heal a family that is torn by tragedy and loss.
No words can really comfort at a time like this,but memories will,and they are something you’ll all carry forever in your heart,which makes Tigerlily’s life a gift to you all.
Thanks for the link, Daz. This book is already on my list. I am still haunted by sylvester and peter gabriel.
Trish,
Rob,
Tears, the memory of my favorites put down. Mopping up where the water dish was. Finally letting go of the leashes, the brushes, the toys….
It will never be easy.
Hugs
Laurence
Mopping up where the water dish was: you nailed that one, Laurence. For her, it was the kitty bed she slept in.
I read your post with tears in my eyes. It is always so difficult when their time comes.
We thank them for loving us and then we have to be strong enough and love them enough to let them go. Sigh.
I still feel my past pets often around me and am so glad I knew them.
I’m so sorry for the pain and loss you are feeling now. Ask to be visited in your dreams, it may take a few nights but they usually make a short visit.
Hugs.
Interestingly, mom, I had a dream about her last night. I was lost in Manhattan – and she was there, briefly.
It’s never easy losing part of the family but, what a wonderful life Tigerlily must have had – and now she has another wonderful home.
Rob and Trish I am so sorry to hear of Tigerlily’s passing. How lucky for her to have you two as guardians for so long. Big big hug to both of you.
Thanks, Sharon. Here’s a synchro: I was jut reading thru that file of synchronicities you sent me awhile back.
If there is anything useful in there please feel free to make use of it. I will say a little prayer for your little furry one tonight.
Thanks, Sharon! You’ve got some wonderful stories about spirit communicaiton!
I can’t help crying as read your story and as I write this. I have had to do the same thing with several of my beloved cats. I so identify with the loss of your cat, even though she had a good life and even though it was her time – I know – grief is grief and it comes back. I wish I had something useful to say. Just my shared sympathy. The Tigerlily name syncro is awesome.
XOX
The Cat Mom
Thanks, cat mom!
That a very touching story. Animals do know that we care about them, and in some ways our spirits are bonded when we share our lives. Tigerlilly might even stay around you for a while.
I have been living at my current place, sharing for six months. The owner has two small dogs. The female knows that I can read her energy, so is always trying to get my attention. They have a bad habit of astral traveling with me now.
Rupert Sheldrake is very right. Dogs are very telepathic, and cats equally sensitive, although in a somewhat different way.
How funny, that they astral travel with you! Yes, Sheldrake is certainly right.
My eyes are filled with tears of both joy and sorrow for you, Trish. I just finished Proof of Heaven yesterday and got the Kindle version of Flipside that you recommended. All the time I was reading the Heaven book, I kept thinking of you and synchros I have known and loved. This synchro with the other cat is one of those that I won’t forget. How lucky I am to have found you! 🙂
Thanks, DJan! You’ll enjoy Flipside!
XOXO
Thanks, Melissa!