The extraordinary presence of a cat (my soul mate)
Ever notice that a cat has a presence–a certain energy–in a room or home? Some animals have a very large presence.
Years ago, when my cat Bastet had to live with my parents for a few months due to rental restrictions, a young friend who was visiting me commented, “It’s quiet without Bastet around.”
I knew just what he meant. While she did chirp back and forth with you if you talked to her, it was clear he wasn’t talking about noise. He was feeling the absence of her energy that filled a room.
Robert and I felt the same thing after she died: the house felt so different, so silent to come home to.
When she was terminally ill, I was an anxious and miserable wreck when I wasn’t with her. Yet when I was with her an unexplained calm would come over me and I could breathe again. In fact, I spent a week of doing nothing but dwelling in her calm transcendent space and caring for her.
While in that wordless state with her I was able to view the world and my life with more perspective than I ever had before. All the silly running around, all the busyness in the workplace about ultimately inconsequential things that may or may not make a company a few bucks….all the posturing people do to look important or be accepted by…who?
I could see it all for the nonsense it was when I was surrounded by the presence of my cat, Bastet. All I felt was what really mattered. If you’ve been there, I know I don’t have to say the word out loud. But I will: Love.
Do you know what I mean?
My cat just died after 2 weeks of illness. I feel the emptiness without her presence. I don’t know what to do with myself, I’ just so heartbroken.
That’s beautifully described, I know exactly what you mean. I lost my soul mate Gizmo at age 15,5 just over three weeks ago. He was a persian cat who came to me when he was 8, he had been mistreated for up to four years after having been used for breeding, and he just stepped in to my life with a very large presence.
He came with the fancy name Brusvehagen Captain of My Heart, but he soon became just Gizmo. Although that first name of his really described very well what he was to me.
This summer, which came to be his last, we spent a lot of time together on the sofa. The last night of his life he was sleeping by my side and I could smell his fur that has always made me feel calm. The only difference was that that night I had to think: “I need to let him go, I have to let go of him” because I saw he wasn’t feeling well (due to a very sudden kidney failure).
You describe the extraordinary presence so well. The presence of my beloved Gizmo remains in my thoughts all the time, but the absence in our home is huge. He was one of those with that very special and large presence who made me feel calm just entering the room.
Thank you for your blog.