“What do you want to eat?” I asked.

When Violet stopped eating for two days last month, I thought to myself, “This is it.  She’ll be gone in a week or so and that’s what she wants.”

This is why we all need Animal Communicators.

This is also why I, as a professional Animal Communicator, would be smarter to stop making up stories in my head and to ask Violet what’s going on.

Violet looked weak and wobbly and very spacey from the start of those two days of fasting.  Later she explained she wasn’t really in her body at the time.

On the third morning, Violet arrived in the living room looking awake, strong, and stable on her feet.  She requested raw chicken liver for breakfast.  I knew she liked liver as a snack, so when she asked for it, I was happy to provide.  I pureed it, as Violet is missing some teeth and while she can chew some things, I wanted to make her eating as easy as possible.  I omitted the garnish you see in the photo.

For about 4 weeks, all Violet ate was raw chicken liver pate, and not much of that.  Truly, I don’t think she ate even 3 ounces of food per day.  It hardly seemed enough to keep her alive.

If I added anything else at all – a little Salmon oil – a little cod liver oil – a little chicken or turkey meat – Violet would turn up her nose and walk away.   “Liver it is!” I promised her.  And liver it was for 4 small meals every day for at least 4 weeks.

Last Saturday, I noticed Violet eating some muscle meat from one of the other cat bowls after finishing her first serving of liver.  This was unexpected, and I didn’t know how to interpret it, so I just took a wait and see attitude.  Did I ask her?  I don’t recall, but I felt that she just wanted some meat, so I let it go.

Over the last 4 days, Violet has continued to consume muscle meat and liver, in separate dishes of course.  Her majesty is now getting two bowls of food at each meal and is eating more and more food overall.  She’s also eating less frequently.

I asked her if I could weigh her to see if her weight has increased, but she looked horrified and replied with an emphatic “No!”

OK.  I don’t need to weigh her.  I’m curious, but I’ve dropped it.  There’s plenty of muscle over her ribs, although she’s thin in her flanks.  She’s also lots stronger – runs up and down the stairs about once a day – and jumps/climbs onto chairs and the sofa.  Truly, she’s in great shape for a cat who seems to be on her way out of the physical realm.

I’m sure raw chicken liver is not a cure for kidney failure.  So what’s going on here?  It’s hard to say.  I don’t believe the underlying issue has disappeared.  This is just Violet’s way of doing things, and the saga will continue to unfold. It implies that animals have a great deal of wisdom about what they need and we humans would do well to learn to respect that.

Meanwhile, it’s wonderful to cuddle with my “velcro kitty.”

[“Velcro kitty” –  a cat who melds herself into your body as a semi-permanent fixture.]