I met with Danielle Tremblay on Sunday, from Insight With Animals. I was really excited about it. Every reading we’ve had has been so accurate and healing.
I went to a party the night before. I planned to go early and leave early. It was the birthday of a friend, and only a block away. I figured I’d have a couple of drinks, watch some fire spinning, and be in bed by midnight.
Instead, I met a boy and stayed til 5am.
I ruined my reading. I was so sick and scattered, I just couldn’t connect. The reading was more meaningful hearing it back, but even then, I was just so spiritually distant, not much could be done.
Penny usually goes crazy when we talk to Danielle. You can hear her meowing on the recording, and she lolls about seductively with her cute, blond furbody, like, “Yes! Yes! Everything I ever wanted!”
It was the same with Cricket when she was alive. She was more restrained – always – but the look on both of their faces, right in mine, was wide-eyed wonder and excitement. “Mom can hear me!”
Not this time. Penny walked away, didn’t even participate with me. Danielle can still connect, but I couldn’t. Makes me sad.
She did tell Danielle that she doesn’t want all the interventions I’m shoving on her. (With the bronchitis, chronic vomiting, limping, and bad gums, I’m a nervous wreck.)
She especially hates the nebulizer. Really hates it. It frightens her and has a strange smell. “It’s a human device that was never meant for a cat!”
For her teeth, I thought dental wipes would be more palatable than a toothbrush, which I also tried (NO!), but Penny says, “They sting.”
She “backs up” at the idea of another cleaning, citing sensitivity to drugs, and described the vet’s methodology as proactive. Evidently, my cat prefers a conservative approach.
“Mom and I have our own way,” she explained. “We treat things as they come.”
That’s all well and good for a cat in her prime and a human with no experience of animal husbandry, but what’s coming now is worsening tooth pain or, worse, the possibility of another broken tooth and begging for immediate emergency surgery – after a night spent holding a screaming cat. Prevention is necessary.
But will she even wake up from anesthesia this time? Her heart murmur’s rated 4 out of 6. Last time it was a 3. It’s significant, and serious. It’s a real risk.
I’ve left the appointment on the books, but I have time to consider it, to worry, and discuss it with the vet. And Penny.
Cricket said she sometimes sits with me while I’m writing and puts her paw on my hand to stop me. It’s her belief that I need to stop “thinking, thinking, thinking” and just be. Apparently, I need to meditate.
I thought that was so cute. And true.
Cricket showed Danielle the image of her sleeping at the head of the bed with me, and acknowledged that there’s another cat there now, too.
“I like her,” Penny said. “I see her with my own physical eyes. I know she’s still here, and I don’t mind.”
That was the best part. Penny’s very much the type of cat who deigns.
I asked Cricket if she will be there to help Penny across when her time comes. “Of course,” she answered. “Sisters help sisters.”
It didn’t seem so “of course” to me. There was a time Cricket wouldn’t leave our room, thinking Penny didn’t want her out in the house. That was a wonderful reading, our first. Danielle talked to both girls about that impression, and invited Cricket to participate in more of my life – which is, let’s admit it, basically on the couch, watching TV.
“Mom would like to see you,” Danielle told her then.
I’ll be damned if that cat didn’t walk into the living room that very night! It was amazing.
This time, Cricket reported having a clearer perspective, and I’m comforted knowing that she’ll be there with us when Penny goes to the other side.
I guess what I’m facing now is the ultimate experience of the universal inability to control outcomes. I’ve written before of what a driving force that’s been in my life. This is the biggest test to date. Penny’s almost 15. I don’t know how long, or how.
But I’ve been invited to stop thinking, thinking, thinking. 🙂
Penny’s fine. She scolded me a bit. “Don’t think of me like an old lady.”
When I talked at length about her teeth – What to do? What to do? – she said, “I’m still eating, aren’t I?”
“I just want to be left alone,” she summed up. “I want to eat what I want to eat.” (She asked for soft food, but try cleaning that vomit up!) (Danielle suggested Stella and Chewy’s. I’m going to try it, mixed in with her prescription food, which is $70 a bag!)
I still think a dental cleaning will be good for us. Her mouth will feel better. We’ll be in better stead for the future. She did mention that her immune system is improved by sunlight. Perhaps by Solstice (her birthday), Penny will be strong enough.
I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know!
Just be, Christie. That’s what Cricket thinks I need. Penny, too, I imagine. Just chill out and love my beautiful kitty. Oh, I love her so much! I miss that fat sister of hers.