Mine was Sunni.
I will always hold her in my heart.
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Your soulmate kitty?
- Thread starter ugaimes
- Start Date
I've had a lot of cats that I love but some seem to cut closer to the bone somehow. My first cat, Magenta would be one. She went everywhere with me, from New York to a Buddhist monastery in California, to San Francisco, back to New York, down to Miami. again back to San Francisco, and last to Los Angeles. Unfortunately, I found out that cats could give people either Strep or Staph and my daughter kept getting it. What I didn't realize was that Magenta could be treated -- instead I send Magenta to my brother's in Miami and she died of feline leukemia. I've never forgiven myself. For years she slept with her head on my shoulder, my arm wrapped around her. At the monastery, she'd get in my sleeping bag and crawl down to the bottom! She followed me to wherever they assigned me to work. She would jump from the floor up to my chest. She purred if I just said her name. She was sweet and cute and loyal. She was definitely a soulmate.
The concept of a soul-mate stems from Greek Mythology. According to the story, our ancestors once had 2 heads and 4 arms. They then committed a terrible sin, for which the Gods punshed them by splitting them down the middle, creating the human race. As a punishment, humans were left incomplete, forever searching for the other half of their soul.
So, if we relate this in feline terms, what do we mean. I propose we mean a cat that understands us as well as we understand them. A cat with whom verbal communication is unecessary, a cat that shares the feeling of intense discomfort when seperated from it's soul mate.
Cat owners are the worst for anthropomorphication, but then cat owners know better. Besides I don't pretend that my soul-mate possessed human characteristics. Of course she didn't, I had them. she had cat characteristics, and that was pretty much the only difference between us. We ate together, at the same time, every day. She slept a little more than me, but if I was smart enough not to go to work, then I may have behaved the same way. Verbal communication was totally uneccessary. This cat never meowed once in her entire life.
I remember walking into a pet store in Guildford, in Surrey, UK. I was after some cat food for Caitlin and Emily, the two cats I had at the time. There was a large cage container at the back of the shop with pitiful mewling coming from it. smiling to myself at my own lack of self control, I dropped the cat food I was holding and walked immediately to the cage. there were 8 or 9 tiny orange furballs in trhe cage, all playing and fighting.One of them stopped and stared at me. The look was so intense, I remember turning behind me to see if this kitten was staring at something else. I returned its gaze and smiled. The kitten just sat there, staring at me. By now I could hear nothing of what was happening around me, until someone at the counter behind me dropped a 40 litre bag of dog food which went "BANG".
8 orange furballs screamed and leapt to the back of the cage. 1 orange furball just sat there and continued gazing at me.
My wife at this point walked up to me and grabbed my arm, trying to pull me away, saying "come on you, we don't need another cat". she might as well have been trying to pull the wall of the building down. Charlotte (my wife) stared at me, then at the kitten, then at me. "3 cats huh", she said. I nodded. I went to the counter and said "how much for one of the kittens". "The males are £45, but the females are £85 as they are much rarer. Tell me which one you want and I'll work out which it is. although there's only one female left so you'll probably have a male. I'll get the one you want out and we can both have a look".
"Dont sweat it, I'm pretty sure the one I want is the female, and I'll take her., ".
Sure enough, the kitten with the piercing eyes was the only female orange kitten in the box. Once we had her out she leapt onto my shoulder and hung onto my neck. to remove her would mean going down a few neck sizes, o we left her there and paid the man. I purchased a cat box at the time, and lifter her off my shoulder and into the box. She went without a noise, without a single meow. I left her with my wife whilst I went back in, and apparantly she went nuts, trying to get out of the cage. Yet when I came back she was immediately calm.
I wanted to name her immediately, even before we got home. She had eyes that burnt with passion, an elegance even at that age, and a sense of distinction that rocked me to my soul.
Carmen seemed appropriate
This was seven years ago, almost to the day. An hour ago I was at her grave, crying for the lost half of my soul, not yet buried for 24 hours. One day I will be reunited with her, and my soul will be again complete. I am sure that with time, the pain will fade, but that time is not yet, and my soul is still raw from the wound.
I will write again when I am up to it.
So, if we relate this in feline terms, what do we mean. I propose we mean a cat that understands us as well as we understand them. A cat with whom verbal communication is unecessary, a cat that shares the feeling of intense discomfort when seperated from it's soul mate.
Cat owners are the worst for anthropomorphication, but then cat owners know better. Besides I don't pretend that my soul-mate possessed human characteristics. Of course she didn't, I had them. she had cat characteristics, and that was pretty much the only difference between us. We ate together, at the same time, every day. She slept a little more than me, but if I was smart enough not to go to work, then I may have behaved the same way. Verbal communication was totally uneccessary. This cat never meowed once in her entire life.
I remember walking into a pet store in Guildford, in Surrey, UK. I was after some cat food for Caitlin and Emily, the two cats I had at the time. There was a large cage container at the back of the shop with pitiful mewling coming from it. smiling to myself at my own lack of self control, I dropped the cat food I was holding and walked immediately to the cage. there were 8 or 9 tiny orange furballs in trhe cage, all playing and fighting.One of them stopped and stared at me. The look was so intense, I remember turning behind me to see if this kitten was staring at something else. I returned its gaze and smiled. The kitten just sat there, staring at me. By now I could hear nothing of what was happening around me, until someone at the counter behind me dropped a 40 litre bag of dog food which went "BANG".
8 orange furballs screamed and leapt to the back of the cage. 1 orange furball just sat there and continued gazing at me.
My wife at this point walked up to me and grabbed my arm, trying to pull me away, saying "come on you, we don't need another cat". she might as well have been trying to pull the wall of the building down. Charlotte (my wife) stared at me, then at the kitten, then at me. "3 cats huh", she said. I nodded. I went to the counter and said "how much for one of the kittens". "The males are £45, but the females are £85 as they are much rarer. Tell me which one you want and I'll work out which it is. although there's only one female left so you'll probably have a male. I'll get the one you want out and we can both have a look".
"Dont sweat it, I'm pretty sure the one I want is the female, and I'll take her., ".
Sure enough, the kitten with the piercing eyes was the only female orange kitten in the box. Once we had her out she leapt onto my shoulder and hung onto my neck. to remove her would mean going down a few neck sizes, o we left her there and paid the man. I purchased a cat box at the time, and lifter her off my shoulder and into the box. She went without a noise, without a single meow. I left her with my wife whilst I went back in, and apparantly she went nuts, trying to get out of the cage. Yet when I came back she was immediately calm.
I wanted to name her immediately, even before we got home. She had eyes that burnt with passion, an elegance even at that age, and a sense of distinction that rocked me to my soul.
Carmen seemed appropriate
This was seven years ago, almost to the day. An hour ago I was at her grave, crying for the lost half of my soul, not yet buried for 24 hours. One day I will be reunited with her, and my soul will be again complete. I am sure that with time, the pain will fade, but that time is not yet, and my soul is still raw from the wound.
I will write again when I am up to it.
In recent years it's been Minx and Jasper T., and I think some of Minx rubbed off on Jasper. They slept with me - putting up with my tossing and turning. Minx had exclusive use of my left shoulder even when I needed it. Jasper claimed any perch beside me.
Minx died in 2002 at age 8 and is buried in the back yard. Jasper disappeared in early May and I haven't seen him since.
Minx died in 2002 at age 8 and is buried in the back yard. Jasper disappeared in early May and I haven't seen him since.
Gareth, I had tears in my eyes reading your post. What a wonderful recounting of a special union.
Mine was my Siamese Susie that I got when I separated from my first husband. When I was sad she came to me and purred and rubbed against me. When she was sick with UTI she called to me from the bathroom sink so I could see the blood in her urine (she never once dirtied outside the litter box but she knew somehow I needed to see her urine so she used the bathroom sink and called to me until I came to see what was the matter). When our daughter was born (10 years after I first got her), she lay on my lap while I breastfed and she tolerated things from a crawling, toddling baby that she would not tolerate from anyone else but me. We had a unique and very special bond and I know she's waiting for me over the bridge.
Mine was my Siamese Susie that I got when I separated from my first husband. When I was sad she came to me and purred and rubbed against me. When she was sick with UTI she called to me from the bathroom sink so I could see the blood in her urine (she never once dirtied outside the litter box but she knew somehow I needed to see her urine so she used the bathroom sink and called to me until I came to see what was the matter). When our daughter was born (10 years after I first got her), she lay on my lap while I breastfed and she tolerated things from a crawling, toddling baby that she would not tolerate from anyone else but me. We had a unique and very special bond and I know she's waiting for me over the bridge.
Gareth i've joined Linda with the tears because that was such a precious, loving story of how you and Carmen found each other
Jack Daniels..most definitly!!
i just looked up Chester's catster page - i love his black nose, in the midst of all the white - it's just adorable!Originally Posted by Chester&Piper
I love all my kitties, they each have their own special "thing", but I have the closest bond with Chester. And his purr melts my heart everytime.
I love all my kitties, living and gone to the Bridge, but there will never be another Fred. He was my buddy for almost 18 years.
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Your tribute to Carmen was beautiful.
You were truly soul mates.
RIP Carmen, until you meet again.
You were truly soul mates.
RIP Carmen, until you meet again.
I've only really had the two I have currently as mine. Trent and I have a special bond. He's definitely my baby.
We have special Mommy-Baby time every morning and every evening.
I think I probably missed my other soulmate kitty, though. My friend (when I was in college) lives on a farm and got kittens as mousers. She named one Snake (after my favorite member of Skid Row, who we were totally obsessed with at the time) and he was mine. He knew he was mine, too.
He would come running from anywhere on the farm when my car came up the drive. He wouldn't do that for any other car. He was a beautiful long-haired dark tabby. He was such a little lover.
But I was in college, and then I graduated, and I couldn't take him with me from Nebraska to Colorado. My friend told me that a few months after I moved back to Colorado, he started staying away for longer periods of time. One day she saw him taking off across a field and never saw him again. I just hope that he found another farm with caring owners who would take care of a good mouser. I still miss my 'Nakers.
I think I probably missed my other soulmate kitty, though. My friend (when I was in college) lives on a farm and got kittens as mousers. She named one Snake (after my favorite member of Skid Row, who we were totally obsessed with at the time) and he was mine. He knew he was mine, too.
Awww, thanks Laureen. Chester sends some purrs and headbutts for the lovely compliment.
Hmmm...both of mine are soulmates for different reasons. Myabe Leo a little moreso. I love them both to death, but Leo and I share something maybe a tiny bit deeper, though both my cats and I have close, deep and incredibly special relationships.
Lola is my little lovebug. She's the one who knows right where to put her head in the morning, so that I wake up to her purring. She's the one who can distract me from my hectic life because she shows me that a little nap and showing the fuzzy mouse who's boss can make everything better.
Leo is my zen kitty. He is apologetic, understanding, flexible and low-maintence. Pet him, he'll purr up a storm. Leave him be and he won't bug you. Leo gets me through those days when you just need someone to talk to. He listens intently without running away or begging you to play with him. Our conversations always end with a leg-rub and some treats. He is incredibly special to me, though, because he never really 'reveals' himself to anyone else. He is ok with other people, but he's only really let me forge a strong bond with him. He is so dear to me and special in so many ways that I can't even explain.
And yes, there's the element that you can't put into words. When I went to the shelter to find the kitty that would be my first, I wanted a middle-aged female. Preferably calico
But when I met Leo...who let me pick him up in that very first meeting...it was clear who I'd be taking home. When I went to get my next kitty, I had my eye on a white and buff tabby named Zachary. And I was intent on another ADULT MALE (since big male tabbies are clearly the best cats in the world!). Well, something I can't explain came over me, and there I was, taking home this runty, still-skinny-from-being-emaciated, teeny little 12 week old kitten. It's true that they choose you, and for everything they do for me every single day, I know they found me for a reason.
Lola is my little lovebug. She's the one who knows right where to put her head in the morning, so that I wake up to her purring. She's the one who can distract me from my hectic life because she shows me that a little nap and showing the fuzzy mouse who's boss can make everything better.
Leo is my zen kitty. He is apologetic, understanding, flexible and low-maintence. Pet him, he'll purr up a storm. Leave him be and he won't bug you. Leo gets me through those days when you just need someone to talk to. He listens intently without running away or begging you to play with him. Our conversations always end with a leg-rub and some treats. He is incredibly special to me, though, because he never really 'reveals' himself to anyone else. He is ok with other people, but he's only really let me forge a strong bond with him. He is so dear to me and special in so many ways that I can't even explain.
And yes, there's the element that you can't put into words. When I went to the shelter to find the kitty that would be my first, I wanted a middle-aged female. Preferably calico
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I wanted to copy and paste this entire post and show it again because I could not read this enough. It is so beautiful and touching
RIP Carmen
This is such a beautiful thread.
I love all of my babies, but Katie is definitely my soulmate. She's been part of my life for so long and has been the one constant through many changes.
She seems to know when I need her to be close and is the only one of my three that I'm ALWAYS able to pick up and cuddle. While Gracie and Pete are very demanding about getting attention (and I'm glad to give it), Katie is my quiet girl. We have an incredibly strong, unspoken bond that is often best communicated with just a gentle touch and purr.
I love all of my babies, but Katie is definitely my soulmate. She's been part of my life for so long and has been the one constant through many changes.
She seems to know when I need her to be close and is the only one of my three that I'm ALWAYS able to pick up and cuddle. While Gracie and Pete are very demanding about getting attention (and I'm glad to give it), Katie is my quiet girl. We have an incredibly strong, unspoken bond that is often best communicated with just a gentle touch and purr.
