It was a warm October day in a barn-garage near Philly: my cats were commenting loudly on their new boarding quarters as my friend, their temporary host, whispered welcoming reassurances to them. And that was when I saw her: a scrawny little cat, barely past kittenhood, her scruffy fur in soft shades of dappled gray and peach, staring at me as she cowered in a Havahart trap in a corner. “She’s a true feral, just rescued from the woods today – no sign of a mother,” said my friend. “She’s going to be spayed tomorrow, and she’ll foster with me afterward.”
My friend was an animal communicator and healer; the young one was in good hands. Nevertheless, I went nearer, drawn by the appeal in her almost-circular peridot eyes. “It’s all right, sweetest, really it is,” I told her as I extended my hands around the trap and felt the Reiki energy flowing. Slowly, almost imperceptibly she began to relax, until her eyelids began to droop and the hint of a purr stirred her petite frame.
The young cat wasn’t there when I picked up my Herd two weeks later; my friend told me that she’d been moved into her apartment and was transitioning well, socializing with the other cats and with humans. I heard no more about her until six months later when my friend called: “I’m needing to adopt out some of my cats; do you remember the little dilute calico you met in my barn?”– “Yes,” I said. – “Well, I asked her where she would like to go for her new home, and she asked to go to you. Would you be willing?”
I remembered those eyes, that look of appeal…”Of course,” I said.
Two days later, she arrived: my friend took her out of the carrier, snuggled her briefly, and put her in my arms. She put her two front paws on either side of my neck, gazing intently into my eyes. I felt a wash of joy, of gratitude and love, as she butted her head against my chin, rubbing her whiskers first on my right cheek, then my left. My friend smiled: “I knew you two were perfect for each other,” she said. I smiled back, then looked at the newest member of my Herd. “Welcome home, Rosita,” I said.