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The Way Of The White Cat

THE LONG PATH.
This story I am about to tell began about three years ago and in my back garden. Well sort of. We  (I and my two cats, Tabitha and Minnie) moved to our new home in August of 2004. It was shortly after that when Battie (Tabitha) was diagnosed as having the early stages of kidney failure. I was told that this was not uncommon amongst older cats (they were 11 then) but as it was caught in the early stages of the condition, she would still have a good life expectancy. Minnie on the other hand was found to be clear of this and continued in her athletic and dynamic way to bounce around, running so fast that all you would frequently see was a dark coloured blur whizzing past you from where she had been moments before.

It was on one bright sunny day during the summer of 2006, in the garden, that I was watching my two 'girls' play and explore, chasing butterflies and various other, more imaginary things. I couldn't help but wonder what life would be like should Battie shuffle of this mortal coil to play with that great ball of string in the sky - when her condition would finally claim her. I did worry about this as both kitties and I had, over the years, formed a very close bond. I stood there and drifted off into  dreamspace when I heard a voice coming from seemingly nowhere yet everywhere, and looked down the garden path. To my surprise I saw a white cat coming down the path towards me. The voice said 'I will be there, my name is...Tiffany?'. Did I hear this right? I asked myself. I snapped out of this and once more saw my two merrily going about whatever cat business they had in the garden with Minnie coming down the garden path towards me moments later. That was the last I saw, or thought of the white cat for some time and life progressed normally for us all, for a while. Then Minnie became gravely ill and to  all our surprise, she passed early in 2008. However, in my sorrow I could see and feel the fur of a white cat caress my face and wipe my tears.

Later on when things had calmed down, I signed on the dotted line in readiness to adopt a new cat, Pagan. Later that week I went for a psychic reading and although the Psychic described Minnie to me, she said I was to have a white cat or 'largely white cat' come to me. I told her I had signed the adoption papers for a black one, but the Psychic merely said that may well be but my next cat would be a white one. I thought 'fair enough' . Unknown to all of us, except perhaps the Psychic, Pagan was to become herself gravely ill and leave this mortal coil and her new family behind in January of 2009. She had been with us for less than nine months.

After that, in spite of 'offers' I would not entertain the idea of taking in any 'new internees' at this point and had started to question what I was indeed doing as far as animals were concerned. The weeks passed and my mind started to open again regarding a new addition to the family, but thoughts of a white cat were far from my mind at this point. Then another psychic told me that soon I would have a 'light coloured' cat. Not yet but soon.  I then remembered what the vet had said to me regarding Pagan and the legendary nine lives of cats.

"She is probably knitting her new over coat even now as we speak" she said. I remember I imagined knitting clearly enough, but what struck me was that although Pagan was black, this knitting was white...

CAT QUEST.
So 'The Royal Hunt Of The Cat' had begun. Leaving word with the vets about a suitable cat vacancy having arisen at my home, I went to the nearest animal shelter but could find no suitable partner and companion for Battie. I went again but all the possibles had been homed since! In as much as that is heartening news - especially for the cats concerned - I couldn't help but feel rather disappointed. It was later that night a psychic friend told me that 'the cat' was near though wasn't with me yet. As soon as she mentioned it I 'saw' in my minds' eye a cat that was white...

The next day, Monday, and feeling rather low, I 'asked for help' regarding 'The Cat to be'.  As I have found in the past, be careful what you wish, or even ask for, as you may well get it.  The week passed quietly enough when on that Friday I received a phone call. It was the Receptionist at the vets.

"Are you still looking for another cat?" she asked. I replied that I was, so she continued to tell me about this cat that  needed re homing. She was female (obviously)  and the right age group and she was suffering from her own form of separation anxiety (like Battie was, as she had never really been on her own before being so very close to Minnie and subsequently formed a solid friendship with Pagan).  I thought and paused before asking 'what's she like, then' and the receptionist replied 'she's a lovely character - not aggressive, oh, and she's white'.

I paused having been taken by surprise, just a little. 'White?' I answered 'That's interesting...' If only she knew just how! That afternoon I went to see 'The White Cat', and the rest is history. After feeling genuinely worried about taking in another cat, I just had to think about what I had been told by those other people regarding a white cat, which confirmed so much the things that I had been told and shown over the last couple of years. In a nut shell, The White Cat had finally journeyed down the road to us and now lives here, a new member of the family.

DEJA-VU.
I found out later that 'Tiffany' is an American breed of largely white cat which was somewhat uncommon in this country, so perhaps it was the name that was to give me the gender of The White Cat. Now we all have that uphill road of resettlement to climb but its looking that it won't be so hard after all. Battie has stopped crying as much as she had been since Pagan passed and I myself feel a whole lot better. Relieved even, and fulfilled. It was hard to tell as to who was making who more miserable, me or the Battster, but on seeing The White Cat, Cleo, casually saunter away from me one evening, I realized that I had dreamt of that precise moment some two years ago in a flash of 'Deja-Vu'. It was just like an 'honest to goodness' live-action replay!  The dream now having been broken, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I had made the right choice and met (at least here) my Destiny.