Animal Messenger Sanctuary Blog

For the past three months, I’ve been watching my two cats adjust to the arrival of a refugee, an 18-year-old cat whose guardian, a close friend of mine, asked me a month before she died to take him in. There are many messages in how all three cats have responded to the change in their circumstances. I have learned over the years to pay attention so I don’t miss the messages being delivered nearly all the time by the animals around me. I still forget sometimes to tune in and listen, and sometimes it takes me a while to figure out a message, but with the cats I was ready because recent life events had left the veil between the worlds thin.

The two cats who were already living with me when Honus arrived are a mother and daughter who used to be feral. The daughter, a black and white cat I named Lorca, grew up in a drainpipe. Her mother, Sparrow, a tabby (with the official tabby M marking on her forehead), chose the spot well for ultimate protection. She took such good care of her kitten (if there were others, they were carried off by a hawk, fox, or other predator before I ever saw them) that Lorca had no need for or interest in humans. Sparrow, on the other hand, clearly made the decision once Lorca was grown to seek an easier life, overcoming her wildness to move in with me. Where she went, Lorca followed, though at first only as a black and white streak glimpsed dashing for an exit. By the time Honus joined us, however, Lorca was spending time on my lap as long as her mother was there too.

Before Honus came, I talked to Sparrow and Lorca, telling them they were not being replaced, that I would love them just as much as ever, that we needed to help out this poor guy who was losing his person, and it would be really nice if they could welcome him to help him feel better. I knew it was Sparrow who would lead the way, so I especially addressed all this to her. A lot of people don’t think animals understand what is being said to them, but anyone who has allowed themselves to love an animal knows otherwise. I have found that when I tell the animals all about an impending change (whether the arrival of someone new, a vet visit, a move, medicine I have to give them), the event goes more smoothly than if I just spring it on them.

As happened in this case. When I brought Honus home, Sparrow walked up to him and touched her nose to his—as sweet a welcome as could be.

So the first message was: You can greet a change in your life with protest and resistance, but it will go much better for you if you greet it with grace and an open heart.

After their initial meeting, all three cats had to sort out their places in their newly arranged world. At first, they kept their distance from each other. Their messages were: There is no need to pretend that you are unphased by change; change is hard and it takes a while to adjust to a new situation; and let relationships unfold instead of trying to jump to an intimacy that hasn’t had time to develop.

Then we had three nights when all three cats slept on the bed, but that was when Honus still felt tentative. After that, he suddenly came into his own and spent the day on Sparrow’s pillow at the head of the bed, then moved on to Lorca’s sleeping spot next to it. Honus’ sleep-in was highly effective. Sparrow and Lorca abandoned the bedroom.

In fact, Sparrow abandoned the house entirely except for during meals. To my surprise, Lorca took the opportunity of her mother’s absence to get closer to me, despite Honus. Every morning, she would seek me out on the couch for a long cuddling session. She came looking for me at other times and relaxed in a new way around me, losing the edge of wariness that was a holdover from her wild days. Her messages were: Look for the opportunity in what appears to be an unwelcome occurrence; only when you are willing to climb over your fear, can you fully receive the love that is waiting for you.

As for Honus, from the first he displayed a remarkable equanimity in the face of this complete and dramatic change in his life. He showed almost no nervousness, but at the same time proceeded slowly, taking in the new opportunities around him (like outdoor living) only when he was ready. Though he had lost the person he had been with his whole life, he was able to open his heart to receiving love from another source. His messages were: It doesn’t serve you to spin out in fear and anxiety; it’s up to you to ask for what you need; and open your heart to love.

Meanwhile, Sparrow had given up our daily laptime. Sparrow is an amazing cat who hears my communications and acts immediately on them, as she did in welcoming Honus. And as she did the time I asked her if she could do something about the rat who had chewed holes in the plastic feed bins and a toolbox in the barn and was sleeping in the cat bed on the hay, as evidenced by the droppings. The next day I found her keeping vigil in the barn, not moving from a meditative posture on the hay all day and sleeping there that night. She let the rat know this was not a good place for him and he better find another home. There was no sign that she killed him. I think she gave her message nonviolently. The rat got the message and there was no more sign of him or any other.

Now I was missing Sparrow in the house and thought she might be missing me too. It took me a while to remember to tell her, but I finally did one night, saying that I especially missed our morning lap sessions. After a month of none, she climbed into my lap the very next morning and stayed there for a long nap. Her messages were: Remember to tell those you love that you love them.

This morning, Sparrow spent time on my lap while I read. After she left, Honus took her place and then Lorca joined us, investigating Honus before lying next to us on the couch. When I left the room to go work on the novel I’m writing, Honus and Sparrow stayed on the couch. They were still fast asleep there when I passed through an hour later. The message: Everything is going to be all right.

© Stephanie Marohn, 2007