Nearly eight years ago I rescued a sick kitten from the streets of Queens, NY, near my home. I kept him and he and I became such good pals that I couldn't imagine life without him.
Sadly, like so many cats, he began to succumb to kidney disease, even though he was only eight. He wasn't eating, wasn't responding to fluid therapy to flush out the toxins, and he had fluid in his lungs, which I was told could be flushed out but would only fill back up a day or two later, and would create further stress on his failing kidneys. It wasn't looking good for him so, with a reluctant, heavy heart, I put him to sleep. I cried like a baby for a whole week, and still miss him terribly.
Anyway, only a couple days after his death, I started hearing meows coming from seemingly nowhere. Even though I did get another cat about two and a half years ago, I'm sure it wasn't him, because he was near me at the time.
I also felt a light "step," for lack of a better word, on my bed one night, a light pressure that gently pulled at my sheets. When I looked up, there was nothing there. But my first cat, the deceased one, always slept on my bed, so I couldn't help thinking of him.
About five days after his death, I was just hanging around my living room, still feeling really sad and missing my little pal, when suddenly my second cat started going crazy, following something that I couldn't see with his eyes, half meowing, half whining, in that funny cat way. Then he ran up to a doorway from my living room to a hallway and jumped up, as if trying to get at something about five feet up along the entrance, still being very vocal. But there was nothing visible there.
I walked over to him, speaking nicely to calm him down, assuring him that it was alright and there was nothing to get excited about. He finally went down on all fours again and walked away, as if frustrated. I stood there looking at the empty spot that my second cat was trying to get at so desperately, and couldn't help thinking about my dead cat. I then called out to him, asking if he was there with me.
Suddenly, a quick, cold burst of air, more like a ball of air, flew past my head, caressing my neck and cheek. It really startled me, at first, but I couldn't help thinking it was my first cat, coming to say hello, or good-bye. No doors or windows were open, and there wasn't any place the wind could have come from.
A few days later I went to a psychic medium (my first time ever) with questions about my cat, as well as a few personal things. Well, before long, she was telling my that not only was my cat perfectly fine, but that he has come back and is in my house with intentions to stay with me until I cross over. She told me all of this before I mentioned anything about what was going on in my place.
When I told her, she just laughed and agreed and said, yes, it was definitely my cat, and he was there to stay. She was pretty accurate with most of the rest of her reading, too.
Although I still miss my first cat and wish he was still with me in body, I find comfort in feeling pretty certain that he is still with me in spirit. A true and loyal friend to the last.
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