I was so pleased to discover the YGS website, and after reading several stories I felt encouraged and safe to share mine. Safe, because from the comments, I saw a community of people who wouldn't think me crazy when I told them about my experiences (as has been the case when I shared with friends and family).
"You're imagining things."
"Your distraught mind is making you see things that aren't there."
"Shame, my dear, you'll get over the loss in time."
"A good story is one thing. Looking for attention with tall tales is just sad."
These are some of the comments I've had to endure, so I've stopped telling my 'tall tales' - until now.
Thank you so much for this platform.
My submissions are in no particular order, but I will try to date them as best as my memory serves me.
This account involves my first furry beauty, my cat, Yoda. Named so because when he flattened his ears, his resemblance to the Star Wars Jedi Master, Yoda, was remarkable. He turned out to be quite smart too. He could high five and low five LOL. My mom said if she hadn't seen it for herself, she'd think I was messing with her.
Yoda was very attached to me. When I went out of the house, I had to do so without him seeing me or he'd fuss - meouwing and scratching at the door for hours (my mom told me so and would scold me). When I returned home, I'd had to make sure I could scramble from my car as fast as possible to unlock the door or he'd kick up such a racket, waking up the entire household. His favourite sleeping spot was on my chest.
In 2007 I'd had to put Yoda down due to urinary tract complications that led to him struggling to pee and eventually passing blood. I could see he was in pain and felt it too. When he lay on my chest I'd feel his body spasm. The vet suggested an operation that could help but I didn't have the funds. After all these years I still remember the day so clearly and tears are pouring down my face as I write this.
I cried for days after saying my goodbyes to Yoda at the vet's surgery. In fact, I was bawling my eyes out as I left the surgery and sat in my car for quite some time crying. I didn't want another cat after that. It hurt too much!
For days after I'd still find myself looking for him and calling him, and when realisation hit me he was gone, I'd break down sobbing.
About two weeks after, I was woken by a wet feeling against my cheek. I woke thinking I'd been crying in my sleep...again, but when I reached to wipe away the tears my cheeks were dry. I decided I'd probably been having a vivid dream, and closed my eyes again. No sooner had they closed and I felt it again. A nuzzling moistness against my cheek. Hot damn, that was no dream. I'm awake. I opened my eyes expecting to find I'd somehow tipped over the glass of water on my bedside table, but it was still there - saucer on top.
I closed my eyes trying to wrap my head around what was happening when something soft caressed my cheek and the penny dropped.
Yoda did not like a using a litter tray. When he needed to do his business and I was lying down, he would stroke my cheek to let me know he wanted to be let out. If I was sleeping and the stroking didn't wake me, he would nuzzle his moist nose against my cheek. I remember calling out his name in disbelief. I'd actually pinched myself to be sure I was really awake!