My wonderful feline girl, Cinnamon, did not have some of the usual fears and aversions you'd expect from cats. For example, when it snowed, she couldn't wait to go outside and tromp through it, or sit under a chair outside and look around for where she wanted to trudge next. As opposed to my previous kitty, Shanna, who merely had to see snow through the window inside to begin shaking her foot as though it was already wet!
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| Gone from this physical world, but STILL a presence ... |
In Cinnamon's later years, when I stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom ready to dry my hair, Cinnamon came in and lay against the back of my legs. I cherished the feel of her soft fur against me. I got my hair dryer out and explained to her I was about to turn it on and she probably wouldn't like it. Then I held it down to her so she could sniff it and know what I was about to do. She was not phased. I would shrug in a bit of disbelief, and turn it on. Maybe Cinnamon would get up and saunter a couple feet away to sit in the doorway and watch me. And maybe she'd stay put right there, against my legs, letting me continue to relish her closeness, her softness; not in the least bit rattled. I came to love these moments with her. Maddie, our black lab, lay a safe distance away in our bedroom, resting or sleeping, with no hint of coming into the bathroom.
So it was no surprise how much I missed it when she Cinnamon got sick, began her decline, and stopped our special bathroom moments. When she passed on August 26, 2010, I knew these treasured times were gone forever.
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| "Black dogs will ALWAYS be my favorite!" |
A couple of weeks later, I pulled out my hair dryer after my shower and stood as always in front of the bathroom mirror to dry my hair. In walked Maddie. Now you have to understand that Maddie steers clear of the bathroom during and after my shower (as opposed to Maggie, who I also had magical connecting moments with in the bathroom prior to my shower). I think it's too warm for her. So imagine my surprise when Maddie walked in, with a bit of a peculiar look on her face, and took small steps to curl into a ball against the back of my legs, EXACTLY as Cinnamon had done!! I was in utter amazement, and my tears began to flow. I could feel my Cinnamon speaking to me through Maddie. Maddie never did this before, and has not done it since (although she did walk in with a bit of a sheepish look the other night, brush against me, and walk out as I dried my hair).
What do you think? Have you had experiences like this with your animals? Do you brush it off or shrug it off to coincidence? Or do you look for those communications with your loved ones from the other side and validate them?
Posted by:
Dawn Kairns
Author of MAGGIE the dog who changed my life A Story of Love
Website: www.dawnkairns.com
