This orange cat of mine was a homeless cat up until a few years ago. My mother had found him outside in her yard feasting on Purina that she left for the other homeless cats and hungry squirrels, possums and birds. She noticed that unlike many of the cats she met over the years, he was extremely friendly and simply wanted love. She brought him into her home, but with so many cats of her own, could not keep another indoor cat.
I'm a sucker for helping animals. All of our pets are rescues. At the time we had three dogs and three cats. Still, when she said he needed a home, I couldn't say no. She called him "Buttons." I looked at him, and said "He's Phineas." I had no idea what led me to that name. I tend to listen for their names.
He adjusted to our household immediately as if he always lived here. He didn't run and hide. He wasn't tentative with laying on the couch or asking for food along with the dogs. He waits with them each morning to share their breakfast (after he eats his own, of course). Even our senior cat, Bella, who didn't get along with the other cats and only tolerated the dogs because they kept away the cats, grew to like being around him. He stayed with her until she breathed her final breath in our bedroom.
My husband calls him a dog. I call him a cat. He goes between the feline and canine species in our house with ease. He plays and rubs against the cats. He let's our shih tzu, Charlie, give him hair styles and clean him thoroughly. He shares our bed with our Yorkie, Teddy, who is quiet particular with who is allowed on the bed.
As I closed my eyes once again, I felt a presence on my right side. At first, I started to feel my heart pumping, my hair stand up on end. My veins were tingling with the sensation that someone from the other side was here. I was about to try to send them away as I do in the middle of the night, when I get scared in the dark. Instead, I said to myself "screw it," which isn't the nicest thing to say when you have a visitor. That being, of which I could not see more than an outline of a thin person, joined Phineas in working on me. I did not know what could be wrong with me, and instead of focusing on that, I spent a moment in gratitude for their gift
After I dozed back to sleep, I instinctively awoke when the process was complete. Phineas turned over, started to kneed my underarm, but drew back. It's as if he knew that his little cat claws would pinch into my skin. He paused, then started to do a kneeding-like press with his claws drawn in. A few moments later, he stopped and turned to move away.
As a reiki practitioner, I am amazed at the wonders healing energy can do for a person. To see my cat in the middle of the night giving me such a gift was awe-inspiring and humbling. Animals have such intuitive abilities to sense human emotions, physical issues, the world around them. As humans, we draw away from the connection that runs through all beings, plants, trees, life. Perhaps, if we could close our eyes and see with our heart, our vision would be much clearer.
Many of us with pets can attest to the joy they bring into our lives. They are not pets, they are family. For me, I am blessed to have had the awesome experience of seeing the essence of our furry family beyond what my two eyes could see. And Phineas, whose name in Hebrew means "oracle," showed me how.
