Cat Collins xo

My Cat died shortly after my 30th birthday. It was February 1st, and I had been in denial about how sick he really was. I took him to the vet every four weeks for fluid injections, fed him a prescription diet for renal health, bought him diapers for when he lost control of his bladder. I rushed him to the vet on February 1st, but they said there wasn’t much they could do. 

Not long after he died, he came to me in a dream. I had hired some sort of medium to bring my Cat back to life. The room went dark and then filled with swirls of colored light. The medium opened his mouth, but it was my Cat who spoke.

“No,” he said. “I am not coming back.” It was final.

“But,” he said, “all the days we spend missing each other will be multiplied by days we get to spend together.” 

I know that if it were even remotely possible, I would have found a medium in real life and summoned my Cat’s soul back into his decrepit body. I would have risked him being some cursed version of himself. I would have sewed his limbs back on when they started to rot and fall off. But my Cat had a soul and his soul was where it needed to be. 

Last night he came to me in a dream again. I don’t remember the dream much, but I remember his presence. When my Cat was alive, his presence made me feel like I had someone in the world with me. Someone who had my back, someone who understood me even though we couldn’t speak to each other. That’s the familiar presence that was in my dream last night. Gentle, wise. It reminded me that he was still there and he would be there. But that for now, I’m here. My soul is here and that must be for a reason. Because our souls are always where they need to be.