Continuing my life journey and how I was led, Part 8 deals with our retirement experiences once we returned and settled in Australia for good. It is another part of an upcoming book or website section entitled Divinely Led.
Part 8: Retirement and Settling in Australia for Good
The Story of Blackie
This is the story of Blackie, the cat that came from our neighbors across the road as a visitor and ended up adopting us as her owners.
Blackie died on 26 April, 2022, being almost 20 years old. Below is her life story.
Blackie was a gift from God. She belonged to our neighbor, Scott, across the road. Originally she came from a shelter as a kitten when the family’s previous cat met an untimely death. We may have sighted her from time to time, but only met her after returning home from teaching overseas, in 2007. One day she appeared in our backyard palm garden and looked like she was trying to have a drink from our pool. I had pity on her and brought her a bowl of milk.
As time went on, she would show up more and more. She learned that if she scratched on the side fly-screen door, we would let her in and perhaps give her something. For several years, she was just an occasional visitor, coming during the winter months and hardly knowing us during the summer. Then her visiting frequency increased and gradually she began spending more time with us than with her own family. She would pay a visit home in the afternoons for half an hour or so and be back to our house. Then even those home visits became shorter and gradually ceased altogether.
Blackie became our “foster cat” and when the local Council introduced cat licensing and officers took to the streets to check if pets were registered, we felt we needed to do something. Blackie’s original owner was not planning to have her registered and was OK with whatever we decided to do. So in early 2021, we registered her and thus she became officially ours. Full adoption had been completed.
Blackie had a few favorite places during the course of her time with us where she enjoyed resting. They included the sofa, the floor by the living room full-length window/glass door, the sunny floor area in my room in the winter, a box by the window on the kitchen counter, under my desk or a small table next to it, on a couple of chairs, and the kitchen rug in front of the sink. Outside, she enjoyed the balcony and the staircase. In the backyard, it was the palm garden where we first met her, and an old lounge chair that I got for my sixtieth birthday, but which was now worse for wear.
Overall, Blackie lived a peaceful life, spending much time between her meals resting or sleeping – which is normal for cats, especially as they get older. But her presence was calming and special. Jane Pauley is quoted as saying: “You cannot look at a sleeping cat and feel tense.”
Blackie was very predictable and had an accurate inner clock that would tell her when to show up in the kitchen to eat, when it was time to come in or go out, when to take a quick trip to visit home, and so on. She knew what she wanted and how to get it, and oftentimes she succeeded. When she didn’t want to be sent outside, she would get into a place that was for us inaccessible or hard to get to. If we were leaving the house and didn’t want her to stay inside, we would need to outsmart or trick her in some way – usually with some food.
Her behavior patterns changed over time, but she was always fun and lovable. The last few months before she died, she craved back rubs. She would get into a certain position which signalled her desire for one. She wanted a back rub first thing in the morning and several during the day.
Except for an insect bite on her back leg, from which she recovered, she remained healthy throughout the time she was with us. She was aging gracefully and didn’t appear to have much if any arthritis. She would effortlessly jump onto the sofa and chairs, and down again. She remained spunky and quite active till close to the end. In the morning, when we let her into the house, after her morning back rub, she headed straight to her bowl in the kitchen – ready for her breakfast When it wasn’t coming right away, she would jump up on a kitchen chair and look over the kitchen counter, as if to ask, “Is it ready?” or, “When is it coming?”
About four or five weeks before she died, Blackie began to eat less and chose a place to rest under a small table in my room as though she wanted to be left alone. She was also favoring her left back leg, which seemed to have become painful. In her walking, she would stop and sit down to rest every few steps. Then, about three weeks before passing she didn’t even want to come into the house and preferred to sleep behind a palm tree or under a cycad in the backyard. She didn’t even mind a bit of rain, though the overhanging fronds largely protected her. Gradually, she lost all her appetite – barely sniffing at her favorite cat food and turning away from it. She drank water, sometimes quite a bit of it, but finally, in her last week, she even lost her desire to drink.
During her last week out in the backyard, we would let her rest in the bushes during the day, but brought her to her favorite lounge chair which was cleaner and sheltered, for the night. She was slowly losing strength and could no longer make her daily trek across the yard to the palms. Finally, when the weather got cooler, we brought her back into the house. We made a comfortable soft bed for her on the laundry floor, where she just mostly lay, though she did move around a bit and with what seems the last bit of energy disturbed some surrounding shoes and garden gloves.
The last night before she died, we tried to give her a bit of water using a dropper, which was successful. Yet all the signs were there that she was dying – cold feet, twitching due to lack of food and glucose in her body, shallow breathing. Blackie died early in the morning on April 26 with her eyes open, still looking much the same as she had the day or two before.
We called the RSPCA Pets at Rest service to arrange for cremation. A lady by the name of Bree came the next morning to pick up Blackie. She gently put the cat in a padded basket, wrapped her in a blanket and placed her in the van. It was very touching and beautiful what tender loving service pets receive. But the thought came to me, that in some parts of the world, humans, created in God’s image, are treated much worse than that – how tragic.
Blackie’s ashes were delivered to us in a few days and eventually scattered in the garden of Animal Welfare League on the Gold Coast. While her body has been gone, I concur with others who believe that we’ll meet our pets again in another life and another form.
For other information on divine leading, see Spirit Helpers and Guides
Here is a short reflection on being divinely led.