Photo Credit ( Freepik )
Was her recently deceased husband sending a message through the yellow-striped cat?
Bill simply wasn’t fond of cats. And then there he was, my husband on the doorstep holding a yellow-striped cat. “See who discovered me,” he grinned. My eyes grew wide as I anticipated the stray to break free from Bill’s embrace and continue her happy life, but that did not transpire.
Bill became enamored with the cat, whom our granddaughter affectionately dubbed AbbyCat. AbbyCat trailed Bill wherever he ventured. She accompanied him on his daily walks, which were lengthy. It was unlike anything I had ever seen.
One chilly afternoon, I watched through the window as Bill made his way to his Adirondack chair beneath the Bradford pear tree. AbbyCat leaped onto one of the wide armrests of the chair and bided her time till Bill took a seat. He pulled her into his lap and started a book when he was comfortable. I brought him out a sandwich a little while later. He shared it with AbbyCat, of course.
AbbyCat merely didn’t follow Bill inside the house. She would only go as far as the screened-in back porch. Bill made her a comfortable box so she could spend the night whenever she wished. When it was all done, he remarked, “She’ll be snug in here.” As expected, AbbyCat immediately snuggled up inside.
One afternoon in February, I happened to gaze out into the yard, and I wasn’t shocked. I reasoned that she must not mind the recent cold snap. similar to Bill. Bill was reading to AbbyCat while he caressed her fur absentmindedly in their recliner. Their unexpected relationship had become accustomed to me; it felt like a destiny. As I watched through the window, it seemed like a blessing—the two of them providing each other with the warmth they needed beneath the pear tree.
Bill entered the kitchen a few days later for his typical breakfast of cereal and bananas. Something strange was coming from the living room. Upon examining the scene, I discovered Bill unconscious on the ground. My spouse was not able to be revived. He’d suffered a heart attack and died instantly.
I barely thought about AbbyCat for the next few days as she arrived and departed. However, I discovered her on the porch when I returned home from Bill’s funeral. I was aware that, like me, she was missing Bill and searching for him. I informed her, “He’s gone.” “We both lost a very special someone.” She was unable to comprehend. I was unable to do either. Without Bill in the world, it was hard to imagine. More than ever, I wanted AbbyCat inside, so I tried to entice her in. As usual, she declined.
I stopped noticing her in the yard or on the porch after that. Bill left his Adirondack chair unoccupied. AbbyCat’s box also did. Bill’s absence seemed to be more lasting somehow after she vanished. Though that was an odd analogy, all I could think about was the fact that I would never see either of them again.
Then, one afternoon, I noticed a flash of yellow when I peered out the window. Dear AbbyCat, As she had done countless times before, she was sitting on the porch and gazing at the home. “You’re welcome anytime,” I muttered. “Of course, on your terms.” I was wise enough not to attempt to entice her inside. That would simply frighten her off. Her quiet presence was enough to make me feel better.
I caught three glimpses of AbbyCat during the next few weeks. As though she wanted me to just be aware of her presence, she would sit on the porch and gaze into the house. I could sense Bill’s presence even if he wasn’t physically present. A presence that told me we will cross paths again someday, reaching all the way from heaven.
AbbyCat didn’t come back after conveying her message. Her mission as an angel was completed. Not just by being a comfort to me, but also by becoming an unlikely friend to Bill.
