Any uusual Stories or signs that gave you comfort?

I believe we will see our beloved pets again. They are in a better place---
it's just a separation, not a goodbye. Of course, that doesn't mean the pain is any less significant. I know because I put my beloved 15-year old Sheba to sleep last week and am dealing with that and struggling. I will post the unusual behavior of my surviving cat, Brooke, later in the week. I want to wait to hear from some of you others so I don't think I'm going wacky....

Many very sane and intelligent pet owners (like us) report having been given a sign that their departed cat/dog is okay and is in a better place: They hear a meow or an unexplainable noise or even experience more tangible things that give them comfort. Or their surviving cat(s) seem to sense or even see something and the petowner doesn't see anything at all.

Can cats "sense" things that people cannot? Can they "see" things that people can't see? I guess what I'm asking is this: Have any of you experienced anything (a sign) that gave or gives you comfort regarding a departed beloved cat, some after-passing sign?

If you have a genuine story or incident to report, please post it. It certainly will help us all and help give us peace of mind.

I believe cats can sense things... when my Charley crossed over about 6 months ago, it seemed like all the cats in the neighbourhood rallied round to help me through the difficult time Everywhere I went there were cats, many of whom were more than happy for me to give them a hug.

Now, I don't know if Charley was behind it all or if the cats just sensed like I needed those hugs. Either way, it has helped me get through a tough time

When I came home after taking my sweet Macumba girl to the vet for the last time, I put my head down on the spot on the loveseat where she liked to spend a lot of her time curled up, and I could hear her sweet, comforting purr, clear as day. Whenever I miss her, I can lay my head there and still hear her purr, though it's grown fainter with time. Even though she's been gone 3 years now, none of my other cats will occupy that particular spot on the loveseat.

For the next few nights after my 17 year old Beau was put to rest - I would feel a cat jump on the bed at night and lay down in his corner. Wasn't anyone there - but it comforted me and put a smile on my face.

Oh yes they can.
I believe a lot of seeing or feeling anything has to be with the person too. So many of us are dulled by the day to day of life that we miss a lot our pets or young children pick up on.
I have felt, thought i saw and thought have heard many things over the years. The one i would like to share with you is about a cat that i found injured. my most recent experience.

Living in Western NY it gets cooold in the winter. One morning late March a couple years ago it was cold and rainy. the worst combination. anyway, the traffic at the stop light was just enough to put me at the spot near a driveway to a doctors office. I happen to look out the passengerâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s side window and spot a "Morris" looking tabby all huddled next to the curb. Knowing it was alive and knowing it had to be injured to be so close to the road, i immediately pulled over and got out to check on the poor guy. He had been hit by a car. the impact was on his head. his jaw was broken and the pallid of his mouth was shattered. but he was very much alive. He was scared beyond belief but let me comfort him. I took off my coat and flannel shirt to give him a bed, i was scared to move him but i had to get him away from the cars. I carried him to the parking lot and begged for help with no luck. I did not think he would make it but i was not going to give up. Not knowing what to do i sat with him and gave him the warmth of my body and the best amount of love i could huddled against the rain. We sat both cold in the rain, then he began to purr. It was a sweet tender purr, even with the blood coming out of his nose in little bubbles. He looked up at me, best he could and just purred his heart out. I found a small cardboard box and lined it with my jacket and shirt. Even through the trauma of moving him, he never flinched at my efforts.
Finally a car pulled over with a women on her way to work who saw me and the cat. She worked at a local vet. THANK GOD i thought. I gave her my phone # and told her do everything you can. I will pay anything just save this poor little guy. She took him away.
That entire DAY all i could think about was that poor suffering creature. still waters my eyes. anyway, sitting at work i finally get enough composure to focus on some work late in the day. As i was sitting there staring at the computer screen i swear i hear this purr behind me. I look and nothing. i sit quiet and nothing. so i shake my head in my cubical and try to refocus. Then i hear it again. I feel this sad emotional rush inside me and tears water my eyes and the purr stops.
Shortly there after i got a phone call from the kind vet tech who tried to help us both. She informed me that they did all they could. She mentioned that the Vet was surprised that the cat obviously had a strong will to live. That encouraged vet to at least try. after all no one even knew who the cat belonged to. The damage to the poor little tiger's head was just too much. he got a terrible fever and purred his last purr when the vet put him to sleep for the last time. I was so thankful to hear that the vet at least tried instead of taking the easy way out and euthanizing it.
I cannot explain why i think that purr was him saying thank you and goodbye.
but i KNOW i heard it. in an office cubical complex with no animals anywhere i just cant explain it.

The last thing I can think to add, is that purr I heard has comforted me and haunted me. As every other experience ive had with dogs and cats over the years who crossed the bridge.
But I think if your heart is open to the experience and your mind isnâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t closed to things unknown, you will have a good chance of experiencing an extrasensory encounter with your 4 legged friend.

What a wonderful story that this person Middletown wrote. My Max passed in July and I pray for some kind of experience to see Max or have a sign of some kind that involves him. I believe I will get it, I just don't know when.

Not quite the same, I dont think, but will say it anyway. When I took Snowy to be pts (pre-arranged), there were a couple in the waiting room and their cat was going mad, as it was in a cardboard box rather than a plastic carrier. My neighbour (who had taken me up) passed comment and they said it wasn't their cat, they were just looking after it till a home could be found for her. for some reason (poss the thought of what I was about to do) I didn't ask any details (despite being a fosterer), although they did pass comment on my cat. Later that day, I had a voicemail from the woman I foster for, I don't normally talk to people when I lose a cat, but thought it might be important so rang her back. She had been asked to take a cat in, couldn't, but knew my cat was seriously ill, so thought I may have space - this was literally 2 hours after getting back from the vets. I rang this woman, and arranged to meet her at teatime. Low and behold, it was the same couple from the vets that morning. I decided that fate meant me to have that cat, so I agreed to have her, pending blood tests. That woman has now become one of my closest friends, I like to think Snowy had a hand in that one!!

I have also felt cats on the bed when there hasn't been one in the house, or the same room. My mum told me it was my childhood cat.

Wow that is fate. How is the cat now?

I thought so, so had to say yes to her. And thankfully her FIV/FeLV tests came back negative, so she has been here since Jan.

The scientist in me wants to think this kind of thing will not happen and if it does, there is of course some kind of logical explanation. Energy of some type not yet defined, etc. etc.

A few years ago when my rabbit was very ill with a digestive disorder - and he was geriatric and at the time, the oldest documented dometic bunny in the country, though I still hope he would live comfortably for as long as possible and I was clinging to every second, I had to come to terms with the fact he would not live forever ! I see death often and have come to accept it as a natural part of life actually, the final stage according to Elizabeth Kubler Ross but I was having a difficult time accepting the pending loss of my bunny and I consulted rabbit health experts throughout the world. One vet from Florida told me that he would come back to comfort me and that I might feel him once he was gone. I knew it was close to the end when his fever became worse, his poor little body of maybe 3 pounds (He was a Dwarf Netherland bun) was was sweating profusely and other vital signs declined. . I hugged him and tried to make him comfortable but I told him in what was more whisper than speech that he could go to the Bridge now, that we'd be together some day, it was OK to leave me for awhile. Moments later, he had three very strong heart attacks and he died in my arms. I buried him on my woodlot which I thought he would like because there are many wild bunnies rnning around in the clover there and he was curious and would like to be in a place where others of his kind were playing and chasing one another. (He loved to play chase!)

I seriosuly questioned the comments of that vet - as kind as she had been to both of us. But a few nights after he left me, I felt his presence on my bed in much the same way - he used to jump on to the bed and sleep at the end of it. (He was litter trained and liked to sleep on my bed, not so much in a cuddly manner but one where he could be where I was and also have his own space) - as I did night after night. I also sometimes think I feel him against my socks - he liked to sit on them, usually when my toes were in them. It is an unusual movement and the first time it happened I questioned my own sanity.

My bunny always perceived the telephone as some kind of competition (my unique explanation for some of his chewing - so typical of rabbits) to my attention. This was especially true if I was on the phone so I tended after awhile to buy cordless telephones and learned to purchase electrical cords for the telephone at the dollar store since they often did not last long. If my telephone line stops working, I will absolutely know he is back!!

Seriously, I think the cautious ever so careful little movements I feel n my bed and near my socks could be his spirit, dropping in to say hello.

Middletown, I am moved to tears by your story of the cat you gave comfort to in his final moments. How wonderful to know that his spirit is with you and that he will be waiting for you at the bridge.

My first thought was "Absolutely!!" - and then I read Middletown's reply. Now that I've composed myself, I'll tell you why I believe. . .

My soulmate kitty was a little Manx spitfire named Phideaux (pronounced Fido - Google "Justin Wilson" and you may find the reference my dad used) who was born in my parents' bed while my mother was birthing me at the hospital, and whose mother moved the litter into the crib with me when I was brought home. Phideaux used a few of her nine lives before she breathed her last in the arms of my mother, shortly after my sixteenth birthday.

My parents had divorced a couple years before, so I called my dad to tell him of her passing. He said simply, "I know. She came to visit me this morning." Dad has always been more sensitive to such matters, so I was not surprised when he told me she jumped onto the foot of his bed in the wee hours and curled up to warm his feet - even though at the time he did not own a cat. She just wanted him to know she was OK before she crossed the Bridge to wait for us.

Well, since I started this thread it's my turn to relate my story.

Recently I had to put my beloved 15-year old cat, Sheba, to sleep.
I have one surviving cat---Brooke---who is 17.


Two days after Sheba’s passing: I was still in an obviously grieving state of mind; in fact, I had just got done weeping, and I called out Brooke’s name; she was sitting ten feet in front of me, resting. She looked right at me and then she slowly moved her head straight up toward the ceiling like she was watching something. That was weird, I thought. She just didn’t move her eyes, she moved her head---like she was mesmorized by something. Of course, I didn’t see anything. I didn’t think anything more about it.

Five days after Sheba’s passing: I’m sitting, watching TV. Brooke is resting on a chair across from me, and Brooke looks right at me and then she raises her head, once again, to look at something above me—above my head.

Moments later, she was looking at me when she abruptly turned her attention to my left to something that clearly got her attention: she stared at it---much like a cat would stare at a mouse that just got the cat’s attention. I turned and nothing was there. There were no sounds, no shadows, nothing that would cause her to divert her attention so abruptly, but clearly, she saw something. I know I didn’t see anything, though. Moments after that, she occasionally began to look at things on the wall, toward the ceiling. I’m thinking, what’s got your attention. This is interesting. Are you going crazy, Brooke?

Six days after Sheba’s passing: I obtained Sheba's urn from the Vet and brought it back home. I’m in the living room, standing, and Brooke was sitting not more than six feet in front of me when she made eye contact with me. Suddenly she abruptly looked-up above my head at something that caught her attention; she held her gaze. That caused me to turn around and look up: what the heck do you see? I didn’t see anything. There wasn’t a shadow caused by an open window, there wasn’t an insect crawling on the wall. Believe me, I looked for a logical explanation---what got her attention?

These occurrences---my 17-year old cat “seeing” something---gave me comfort, peace of mind. Two weeks passed and I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Last night. Well, last night was another story….

Three weeks after Sheba’s passing: I am getting ready to fall asleep on my bed; it’s after midnight, and for whatever reason, I was feeling particularly sad over Sheba, even feeling guilt that I put her to sleep. I even said aloud, “I’m sorry Sheba….Sheba, give me some sign that you’re okay.”

After getting composed, I said aloud something like, “God, I wish you’d give me a sign that Sheba’s okay.” I don’t know what I was expecting.

I turned out the lights, put my head on the pillow and no more than ten minutes later the electrical power goes completely off in my bedroom—my fan and small electrical nightlight go off. I’m in complete darkness and silence, and I must admit, it was unnerving at first. I estimate that it was seven minutes later and the electricity comes back on. It turns out the whole house lost electricity for those 5-10 minutes.

Did my neighbor lose power? I don’t know. Maybe they did too. Maybe there was an auto accident in the area. Someone hit a power line? Whatever happened, it was one whale of a coincidence, wouldn’t you say? Our power doesn’t just go out every night of the week.

When the power did return, I sat there and admittedly I was still unnerved. But I believe it was an answer to prayer.


Now, for any skeptics out there, I am not prone to overworked imaginations and the preceding is not wishful thinking on my part. I do not have supernatural experiences, and frankly, I do not go “looking” for them.

I’m a college professor. That does not mean a hill of beans. I ONLY mention it here because a lot of debunkers or “uninformed people” tend to dismiss such stories as only happening to the not as “educated” people out there. Well, this professor---I teach communication courses like writing, speech, etc.---only knows what I have experienced as I have related it here.


I’m still dealing with the pain and loss, but
the preceding events and the other posts to this thread (and others)certainly have been a blessing to me because they have
given me some peace that yes, our beloved pets do, in fact, live on. I hope this post, among all the others here, gives others peace as well.

Dale

I had to have Mouser put to sleep almost a year ago. I held her and spoke to her through my tears. After the vet said she was gone, I felt and heard her purr 3 times. I told the vet and he looked at me like I was crazy, but double checked. I believe she was telling me she was comfortable now.

When we buried Mouser, we buried her with some of the things she enjoyed, wrapped her in her pink towel, and put a pink miniature rose on her chest. While my BF was digging, he found a tiny antique bottle, which we have on our shelf and will always treasure as a gift from her to us.

What a great experience to share Dale.
Thank you.
A skeptic is only someone who has closed their mind and has not been fortunate enough to see the greater intangeable gifts of life.

and being a College. Prof. Please dont read my posts and send them back with Red correction ink

My previous orange babydoll was gotten from a shelter when I was much younger--November '97. I'd just got back from a trip to California, where they have orange balls with blue numbers on them for a gas station logo. And he was runty, and could curl up and be just barely bigger than my hand, and he was so orange at first that I named him 76. Yes, my baby was named after a gas station, hush. He grew up small for a male, but leggy and muscular.

In early '02 we started letting him go outside because he'd proven he could handle himself and stay in the backyard like a good boy. Early March of '02 someone poisoned him and he came in the house, lay down under mom's sewing table, and died in his sleep. We had him cremated and put in a little urn (I have it next to me on the shelf right now), and I was brokenhearted for months on end. I thought he was lost forever.

Last year, we moved to a new apartment. Then, about two weeks before my birthday, I had seriously begun missing owning a cat and was getting depressed from loneliness. No friends, my family away all the time, and just me rattling around the house with my thoughts. I decided to go take a walk outside just to stop from crying so much all the time. And there, on the porch, was something I think I'll keep until it rusts away and falls into red flakes of nothing.

With no explanation for its appearance--none of the neighbors put it there, nor even knew of the fact that I'd had a cat by that name, and none of my family or friends had anything to do with it either, and there aren't any in San Antonio or neighboring cities that I know of--there was a large metal disk, seemingly some sort of souvenir-type thing. It the orange-and-blue 76 gas station logo. I picked it up and brought it inside, sure this was a sign from above that he was alright and things would get better.

A week later, my current orange furbaby, Lucifer, showed up on the porch out of nowhere. And mom even let me sneak him into the apartment (we weren't supposed to have anything but the dog) and keep him.

I no longer doubt that there's a place pets go when they die, or that there are such things as signs.

Originally Posted by Tabaqui

My previous orange babydoll was gotten from a shelter when I was much younger--November '97. I'd just got back from a trip to California, where they have orange balls with blue numbers on them for a gas station logo. And he was runty, and could curl up and be just barely bigger than my hand, and he was so orange at first that I named him 76. Yes, my baby was named after a gas station, hush. He grew up small for a male, but leggy and muscular.

In early '02 we started letting him go outside because he'd proven he could handle himself and stay in the backyard like a good boy. Early March of '02 someone poisoned him and he came in the house, lay down under mom's sewing table, and died in his sleep. We had him cremated and put in a little urn (I have it next to me on the shelf right now), and I was brokenhearted for months on end. I thought he was lost forever.

Last year, we moved to a new apartment. Then, about two weeks before my birthday, I had seriously begun missing owning a cat and was getting depressed from loneliness. No friends, my family away all the time, and just me rattling around the house with my thoughts. I decided to go take a walk outside just to stop from crying so much all the time. And there, on the porch, was something I think I'll keep until it rusts away and falls into red flakes of nothing.

With no explanation for its appearance--none of the neighbors put it there, nor even knew of the fact that I'd had a cat by that name, and none of my family or friends had anything to do with it either, and there aren't any in San Antonio or neighboring cities that I know of--there was a large metal disk, seemingly some sort of souvenir-type thing. It the orange-and-blue 76 gas station logo. I picked it up and brought it inside, sure this was a sign from above that he was alright and things would get better.

A week later, my current orange furbaby, Lucifer, showed up on the porch out of nowhere. And mom even let me sneak him into the apartment (we weren't supposed to have anything but the dog) and keep him.

I no longer doubt that there's a place pets go when they die, or that there are such things as signs.

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What a lovely story. Thanks for sharing. That gives me more hope I will see my Max again. He passed in July.

Rediscovered this old thread; thought it might provide some degree of peace that yes, there is a Bridge, and our friends wait for us.

Any newer stories to add?

---Dale

These stories are incredibly moving.

I have one of my own.

Two years ago my beautiful boy Tucson passed on. It was a very sudden event and I expected him to have lived for a long time yet. We were always together, always knew where the other person/cat was. He always came to sleep with me, and he this specific place at the foot of the bed where he curled up.

A few nights after I had a dream where Tucson jumped on the bed in the early morning and just sat there purring and looking at me. After what seemed like hours in my dream, he came to my pillow and lay over my head,just purring. He then gave me a headbutt, one more look, then jumped off. There was a golden light coming from the hallway. When I woke up I could hear him purring, I could still feel his warmth. But most of all I could feel that he was saying "I'm all right, I'll always be here for you. Please don't be sad." The dream was crystal clear, and when I woke up there were tears in my eyes and I half expected to see Tucson sitting there exactly like in my dream. I don't even know if it was a dream or reality, or some strange dream world. But it was so real.

Tucson still visits me. My new cat, Quill, almost mimicks Tucson. One day I caught Quill playing with one of Tucson's old toy mice. I thought that the thing had been lost, but out of the blue Quill had found it. I don't know where it came from but he was SO happy playing with it. I know that Tucson is still visiting, and keeping Quill company.

This is a little long...sorry...

My first Smudgie boy was a beautiful odd eyed white cat that was one of 8 born in our house from a stray that I found at work. We kept him because his odd eyes were so neat, and we'd had an odd eyed white before. He went to FIP shortly after his 6 month birthday. It was devastating to our family, and I had a hard time staying on TCS because I was so sad, but life went on...

I decided to help on the Pregnant Cats and Kitten forum some because of my experience with Elsa, Smudge's mom. I was lending some support when one of our members - a breeder - was going through labor with her queen. She had never had any troubles, but with this litter there was one born dead, and then labor stopped. Then a couple days later, labor started again, and 5 kittens were born. One of them died a couple days later, and it was very sad. The breeder decided to make a point of naming the survivors after other kittens that had died too soon, and ended up deciding to name one of them after my Smudge (because he had a diamond shaped smudge on his forehead).

I kept checking in after him, and jokingly asked if he was for sale. It turned out that he was promised to someone, but they did some talking with the potential buyers...and, well, Smudge came home to me. What really sealed the deal was that his birthday was exactly 1 year after my Smudge's. I just really think there are no coincidences here, even though there's nothing supernatural - just like it was all meant to be!