cats who have graciously crossed my path
Jul. 7th, 2025 06:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serafaeryI miss all the cats who've been kind enough to associate with me. Many I have had deep, unforgettable bonds with. I think of them often. New Cat was my best friend for a long time. Willow came after her. Willow watched me become an adult and I was heartbroken for years over losing her. Then P-Funk, Darwin, and Lunar, my three little black old men cats.
Today, and lately, I've been missing Darwin the most. Darwin was rescued five weeks after P-Funk's death. He was a 20 year old cat who had been surrendered mysteriously, and I had just lost a 20 year old cat, and felt I had the room and capacity to give this one a good home.
Darwin is really the one who rescued me. Within a couple weeks he was out of his shell and so energetic that I double checked his age with the shelter, who sent me to the hospital he had been surrendered to, who confirmed that he was in fact 21. !!!
I had him until three weeks before his 23rd birthday. He was healthy, happy, and content for almost the entire time.
Darwin was mostly deaf, and would sometimes howl at the top of his lungs to hear himself, which I found hilarious.
He was the sort of cat who would daintily tap his paw on a leg - anyone's leg - to be asked to be lifted into a lap, as his legs were too arthritic to jump. He loved to snuggle into laps or sunbeams. He had a particular position he wanted to snuggle in under my arm every night, and if he came to bed and I was not in the right place, he would tap my shoulder with his paw until I rolled over and offered the crook of my arm for him to snuggle into.
There were a few small things that went wrong toward the end of his life, but for the most part, the entire time with him was absolute delight. He seemed so content and relaxed. Nothing ruffled his feathers. He seemed grateful for every moment. The week before his death he was still gently chasing cabbage moths in the grass. He was best friends with a neighbor cat who would come for walks with us nightly. Chester, a huge orange tabby, absolutely adored Darwin and would wait on our porch for him. (I always went with him, he did not go outside unsupervised.)
Darwin had the most peaceful death imaginable, at a vet he loved, surrounded in love and gentleness.
Sigh.
I don't believe in the afterlife or other woo-woo things, but I got what felt like messages from him afterward, signs of different sorts from different places, in the form of art and music, that said we had known each other before and we would meet again. I resonate with identification as a star-seed, even though I don't believe in reincarnation or "oversouls" or anything like that, something about the starseed identification feels true in a way I don't understand. Similarly, I got messages that Darwin was also a starseed. It never occurred to me consciously that animals could also be starseeds, but of course they can - anything can be a star-seed. Technically we all come from star-stuff anyway.
So whenever a starseed message comes to me, I think of Darwin, and I miss him. It gives me a warm fuzzy feeling to think of him. There is a mystery there I don't understand. And I'm grateful for that connection.
Today, and lately, I've been missing Darwin the most. Darwin was rescued five weeks after P-Funk's death. He was a 20 year old cat who had been surrendered mysteriously, and I had just lost a 20 year old cat, and felt I had the room and capacity to give this one a good home.
Darwin is really the one who rescued me. Within a couple weeks he was out of his shell and so energetic that I double checked his age with the shelter, who sent me to the hospital he had been surrendered to, who confirmed that he was in fact 21. !!!
I had him until three weeks before his 23rd birthday. He was healthy, happy, and content for almost the entire time.
Darwin was mostly deaf, and would sometimes howl at the top of his lungs to hear himself, which I found hilarious.
He was the sort of cat who would daintily tap his paw on a leg - anyone's leg - to be asked to be lifted into a lap, as his legs were too arthritic to jump. He loved to snuggle into laps or sunbeams. He had a particular position he wanted to snuggle in under my arm every night, and if he came to bed and I was not in the right place, he would tap my shoulder with his paw until I rolled over and offered the crook of my arm for him to snuggle into.
There were a few small things that went wrong toward the end of his life, but for the most part, the entire time with him was absolute delight. He seemed so content and relaxed. Nothing ruffled his feathers. He seemed grateful for every moment. The week before his death he was still gently chasing cabbage moths in the grass. He was best friends with a neighbor cat who would come for walks with us nightly. Chester, a huge orange tabby, absolutely adored Darwin and would wait on our porch for him. (I always went with him, he did not go outside unsupervised.)
Darwin had the most peaceful death imaginable, at a vet he loved, surrounded in love and gentleness.
Sigh.
I don't believe in the afterlife or other woo-woo things, but I got what felt like messages from him afterward, signs of different sorts from different places, in the form of art and music, that said we had known each other before and we would meet again. I resonate with identification as a star-seed, even though I don't believe in reincarnation or "oversouls" or anything like that, something about the starseed identification feels true in a way I don't understand. Similarly, I got messages that Darwin was also a starseed. It never occurred to me consciously that animals could also be starseeds, but of course they can - anything can be a star-seed. Technically we all come from star-stuff anyway.
So whenever a starseed message comes to me, I think of Darwin, and I miss him. It gives me a warm fuzzy feeling to think of him. There is a mystery there I don't understand. And I'm grateful for that connection.
