Sunday afternoon. A client called to ask for help with her cat who was dying and struggling for breath. It was an expected passage, and I recognized who it was almost immediately as I attempted to discern the message from underneath a layering of cats. “Please don’t hang up yet,” I telepathically sent to my client as I struggled to sit up and gently reposition the cats.
As I listened to the sobs in my client’s voice, I could feel that this was me, asking for help with Violet – or it could be. I was flooded with my client’s grief, and some of my own, too.
I managed to shift cats around and get to the phone before she hung up. It was a brief call. Her cat expressed her readiness to depart and to receive euthanasia. That was all the client needed to know.
As I hung up the phone, I turned to see Violet sitting on the sofa where I had left her. Still glowing, she is.
“Please don’t reach a crisis on a weekend,” I requested as I gave a deep sigh.
Still radiant with life force, Violet just looked at me knowingly — that inscrutable feline expression that even telepathy doesn’t ever seem to penetrate.
In my heart, I thanked my client for giving me the opportunity to be of service and to be part of her sacred moments with her beloved feline companion.
Then I gave Violet a kiss on her head. She purred. Sacred moments abound when we’re open to them