All religions agree that certain things are holy.
For instance: Moly. Mackerel. Cow. Guacamole.
And, most importantly, cats.
This is not written in the dogma. You will not find a Psalm about purring, or a sutra on tufty ear hairs. There are no scriptures on the sublimity of calicos. Not even the Ten Commandments include the divine prohibition on delayed treats, although clearly this was an oversight.
But as the year turns colder, we read between the lines.
The veil between heaven and Earth peeks open. We realize we are less alone than we assume for most of the year. Cats we loved like our own children have gone from love to Love. Cats we followed like our greatest teachers have left our sight, without leaving our side.
If we are on Earth to take care of each other, some of the greatest souls have walked on four feet.
If love is our purpose, blessed are the unconditional.
And on All Souls’ Day, we give thanks for holy ones whose creed was life itself.
Smoothie poured pure presence into every encounter, approaching cats and people like pilgrimage sites. Her eyes would turn enormous as she drank you in. She revered Bello, her nap-companion and guardian yak. She lived for Drew, her foster Mom and unfailing angel. Even as her tiny body failed, she knew the secret of sweetness in all circumstances: be here in the now, with the loves you are given.
Merriweather listened seven years for a”yes” that was worth the wait. Her yearning yielded to the great gladness of being Gail’s girl. In the twilight of life, the most beautiful black cat previewed heaven on Earth.
Theodosia changed the course of history, without ever leaving the Coat Room at Tabby’s Place. Never more than five pounds, she filled every inch of her dominion with her bawdy alto meow. She was all urgency and affection, circling legs and lives with devotion. Volunteer laps were her cathedrals. When that wispy grey body rumbled with purrs, it was every hymn ever heard at once.
Diana was devotion’s child, a purring proverb of what happens when love is not bullied by odds. As one of our first cats living with feline leukemia virus (FeLV), she predated Quinn’s Corner (our haven for FeLV+ cats). But she arrived on schedule for her miracle, thriving for years in the care of volunteer angel Julie. She beams upon each generation of FeLV+ cats, coaxing potential adopters to believe.
Mickey, meek and good, inherited Earth’s gifts in Suite E: friends who adored him, and who gave him the chance to adore them back. Every cat’s cat, Mickey learned that love walks on two legs, too, and finished his journey in the arms of angel Tiana.
The littlest Flyer, Bump, was the heart of our winter hat trick. Yet while sisters Barkey and Bonk grew strong, the grey baby was as fragile as a feather. He will be by his sisters’ side as they thrive in their shared forever home, purring from just across the goal line.
Shirley was the mother of a million mercies, selflessness in stripes. She persevered through cancer and fear to get her newborns to Tabby’s Place. On the wings of that miracle, she lived a year more than anyone expected … anyone but the saints and bodhisattvas, who now honor her among their own.
Aries, Love’s deputy on Earth, delighted in all beings. On legs as loopy as noodles, he galloped off the Community Room conference table more often than Dick Van Dyke tripped over his ottoman. Aries could not help himself. At the sight of a person worthy of love (e.g., a person), he forgot time and space and threw himself into the “now” of “together.” Shorn of self-pity, he persevered through medical mysteries with humor and verve. He left this Earth with a belly full of cheeseburgers, ready to herald heaven with a whoop of, “I’m here!”
Pepita was sweetness in black-and-white, honest with her love. You knew where you stood with Pepita, and where you stood was the safest place under heaven. Incapable of meanness, she gave her heart to all. At last, the gentlest giver received a home of her own with angel Danielle. Pepita cheers us on even now, with eyes that can only see good.
Miss Kitty brought doughy dignity to our lives. Though she could have strutted the length of the Lobby, she made herself a bungalow behind the reception desk, like an anchoress of old. Placid as rice pudding, the grand grey lady received visitors with an open heart, sharing her peace.
Cupcake came to us with one foot already heaven-bound, but there was still time for sweetness to surprise her. The Community Room cradled the calico like a kitten, and sunbeams were our shared bond.
Patches was once the hub of that same Community Room, a magenta personality in pastel vestments. Sprightly and saintly, she gave bossy kisses to cats who did not necessarily want a blessing. But if she had to leave her soulmate Tux, it would be for the very best reason: a forever foster home, with angel Cendrine. Patches sewed us all back together when we felt threadbare, and her golden thread weaves through the Tabby’s Place story.
Bruno came from Coney Island, where cats bullied him and sidewalk rats brazenly shared his breakfast. Yet forgiveness filled his grizzled face when he met the Tabby’s Place cats. Held by the high tide of friendship, his final years washed away the grit of the past. Reunited with Shirley, he waits for us all down the longest boardwalk.
Amigo lived up to his name, a true-blue brown tabby who assumed all creatures were his friends. To gaze into his eyes was to see his first Mom, who taught him just how kind the world can be. Back in her arms today, he teaches us still.
Kaine came through grief to decide Tabby’s Place was 10/10, the party of the century. Effervescent and adolescent despite her old age, she landed the affections of angelic adopters. When cancer crept up like a coward, Kaine was courageous. In her final days with foster angel Karina, Kaine showered new siblings with love. Her rainstorm of affection reaches us even now.
Jimmy‘s journey was long, his time with us was short, but his legacy is everlasting. We will meet again, innocent orange boy.
And Chester, cherished Chester, was the most soulful of all.
He came with a face that would make most turn away. Scarred and bleeding, Chester’s cobblestone cheeks were a medical mystery. A team of specialists diagnosed an uncommon disease, but more rare was the radiance yet to come. The cat with the craggy countenance became the leading man of Suite D, a handsome hero to cats and people alike.
There was no cat more beautiful than Chester, and no better way to spend the year than in loving him.
We love them all, forever.
They love us still, and more than ever.
Happy All Souls’ Day, to our family on both sides of the veil.