What I Know About Love

My Cat Friend, Karl

I put the following on my FB Fan Page:

“When I got up this morning, I found my young, much loved, Maine Coon cat, Karl dead on my bedroom floor. He had died instantly with a genetically bad heart. He had slept with me part of the night, snuggling in my hair and under my chin and covers as he always did. I knew he would die suddenly in the far off ‘Someday’ but not today. Every day I told Karl, many times a day, how much I love him. That’s all we can do with our pets and people. Love them, tell them, treat them well & help them be as happy as possible. Everything ends here on earth, ‘Someday.’ xo venus”

A few weeks after I got Karl as a kitten, my vet told me his sad future. I chose to live with that eventual reckoning and keep and love him. Just as with any relative of mine, my animals are with me for life, no matter what.

I loved Karl intensely, always knowing the outcome, knowing I only had a year or two with him.  I kept him and I loved him, knowing that the pain I would have, would be in direct proportion to the deep love I chose to feel for him.

My ex-husband has never had another animal since we divorced many years ago. He still recalls his pain when our 2 dogs died, and he says he can’t go through that, again.

I tell him, “By doing this,  you’ve left a number of desperate animals without a home that could have had safety and love with you.” I say, “I know that the pain of loss is huge, but the pain of not loving a human being or a creature, and refusing and being afraid to love again, is greater.”

I tell him that when we close our doors to loving animals or people, we ask for and accept a more barren existence.

My cats then climb into his lap and he loves them for a moment. Then, he leaves my house and goes back to his life of golf and bridge and beer.

Karl Contemplates When He Will Be Running Free

Even though I am a *Medium and connect people with their dead…I still grieve heavily when a person or pet that I love dies. I suffer even though I know all beings are more alive, dead…than they were when they were ‘alive’.

It’s just that now I can’t trot down the road to my mother’s house and have tea with her. I can’t go and cry to her about my losses and sorrows. I can’t celebrate my wins and tell her about my projects. I can’t sit in her personal sunshine.

I can’t hold Karl now and kiss him. I miss him making bread in my hair and chewing on it every night in bed. I miss him pawing himself under the blankets to snuggle with me while pushing his large head under my chin. I miss waking up with my hair unruly and stiff with cat spit.

The night after his death, I have a dream. I’m standing in my kitchen, next to my friend Bill. I look up and there is Karl, lying on a towel on the inside window ledge. He’s dozing and dreaming in the sun.

“Look! Look!” I say as I shake Bill’s arm. “It’s Karl! Do you see him?!”

“Yes,” Bill says. “I see him.”

35 years ago, when I lived on the same property as my mother, I loved and lost a cat named Puddie. She was special to me, like Karl. When she died I grieved for a long time.

Several years ago, my mother said to me, “I walked into my kitchen the other day and I saw a black and white cat sitting on my stove! I thought, ‘What cat is that, sitting on my stove?!’ And then I realized, ‘It’s Puddie!'”

My brother Art tells me he woke one night and felt his dearly loved, dead cat, Carrot, sleeping on his feet.

My brother Jim sees the shadows of his dead cats everywhere, out of the corners of his eyes.

My mother did the same.

My family is sad for me. We are all animal people.

Jim reminds me how he and I chased my cat Puddie ‘clear across the state of Texas’ on a trip we took together. She had told us she wanted out of the car to do her ‘biddness.’ We obliged.

Puddie looked at us, then turned and took off running. We chased her until we almost caught her, then she would take off again, running, stopping, waiting for us then racing off, again. Texas is mighty big and soon all we could see was the interstate behind us, miles away in the distance.

“We couldn’t leave Puddie,”Jim reminds me. “We were prepared to stay in Texas as long as she chose to run. Remember? We chased her and waited for her, for hours.”

I do. It’s funny now. But, I am not ready, yet, to remember Karl’s funny antics.

I am only ready to remember my losses.

Maybe I will be better, next week.

I know I will be better.

Maybe tonight, in my dreams, he will put his large paws in my hair and rub my pain away.

Bob The Dog Misses Karl, Too

*MEDIUM*Do you know the kind of work I do when I’m not busy having Adventures? Look here for details. THIS YEAR is a great time to have a phone reading with me!   Visit me at www.GodIsAlwaysHappy.com for rates and availability.

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