Scooter said hello.....

Cried my eyes out today: found three black whiskers. Haven't bawled like that for a while now. 

3 precious whiskers....

Spoke to an "Animal Communicator" a while back. (Confused, don't know what to believe any more, etc.) She said some things that she could have picked up from this blog (not accusing her, it's just my head needs all loopholes closed) but she also told me stuff "from Scooter" that I hadn't told anyone. Or things that only I and Luvbug knew, and things Scoot and I did together, things I called him (loads of nicknames!) and then a few predictions.... finding black whiskers was one. 

-A BLACK one, even though they had gone grey, "because he really didn't like it when they started to go grey" she said, and "you'll find them when you're not looking for them". I HAVE looked for them. But I wasn't looking for them today, and there they were, next to the sofa.... he passed in September; how many times have I vacuumed since then.... 

Then after I'd been crying for ages, I made tea and put the tv on. I got a new box of tissues out of the cupboard, and found the outer sheaf of one of his claws.  

outer sheaf of a claw

 
So sharp! She said he had been very proud of his long, sharp claws. A black cat with long, clean white claws, you see. I loved to watch him clean them. I've put it in the little box I keep snips of his hair in, a print of his paw, and now the whiskers..... 

paw print that I took the day he passed... 

I rested his paw onto an inkpad

 

Now... this one really blows my mind... I stared and stared and stared-

Last week I came across little patches of moist muddy prints, so fresh they still had water around them. This was at 5am, in a high traffic area (door to kitchen), at least 5 hours after Luvbug had gone to bed, and after I'd been half watching tv, snoozing on the sofa for ages. No other cats in the house: catflap is covered over. I stared, got right down on the floor next to them.... in the end I took a photo:

 wet, muddy pawprints

I wasn't wearing shoes, I was wearing big fluffy socks.... I really wracked my brain, and looked all round for an explanation. I couldn't find one...

I just took the photo's, thanked Scooter and smiled, then went to bed. After I settled down, I heard a few bumps in the kitchen, but I just smiled and went to sleep...

Precious boy. I love him so much, and I miss him so badly, like part of me has been ripped away.

I'm glad for these *tangible* parts of his presence. When I'm low, or when I get that aching lump in my chest that his photo often brings, I'll know that it isn't just my crazy head that says he's still around, because I have things to hold and look at. Hallucinations can't be photographed.

At the risk of people telling me I've totally lost it, I'm posting this here, hoping that it helps anyone else who's grieving at the moment.

animal communicator: Clare Metcalf; her website: Free Spirit Animal care

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Love, tea & cake,  
Helena