Copyright

Some names have been changed to protect

the privacy of the story tellers.

HarperTrueFate

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First published by HarperTrueFate 2016

FIRST EDITION

© Jacky Newcomb 2016

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be identified as the author of this work

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Sources ISBN: 9780008144470

Ebook Edition © August 2016 ISBN: 9780008144463

Version: 2016-07-27

Dedication

My faithful companions, RIP

Magik – 19 August 2013

Tigger – 16 June 2015

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter 1: Magik

Chapter 2: Paranormal phenomena

Chapter 3: Saying goodbye

Chapter 4: Connecting in other ways

Chapter 5: Psychic cat and human connections

Moving Memoirs eNewsletter

About the Author

Also by Jacky Newcomb in the HarperTrue series …

More by Jacky Newcomb

About the Publisher

Chapter 1
Magik

When my cat Magik died I was devastated; I sobbed so hard that the following day I ended up at the doctor’s surgery with two infected eyes. Magik came to us as a rescue kitten. She was being taken care of at an army home in a local barracks. I still remember my visit. I walked into the house and kittens were everywhere. Fluffy white balls with various dots of colour – all males, I was informed.

I was at the house for one reason. I’d had a dream that we were getting a new cat to add to our existing two-year-old ginger tom. This one was black, a kitten, full of life and fun … but female. In my dream the cat was playing with a butterfly and the following morning I began my hunt for the cat in my dreams.

My husband and I had a massive row about it. He’d been reluctant to get Tigger, our tomcat, but my ploy of taking him to the rescue home along with our two daughters worked. He, too, fell in love with the ginger striped cat that we brought home that very day. Tigger had a brother and a sister. Coincidentally the sister was a black female, but there was no way I could persuade my husband that we should take them both.

So there we were, two years later, and the longing for a second cat had always been simmering in the background. The dream had persuaded me; it was out of my control. I clearly remember my husband yelling, ‘We are not having another cat! You have to make a choice … it’s me or the cat!’

Seething, I quietly turned away from him. ‘I’ll miss you …’ I uttered, walking away. I was taking a big risk and I still don’t recall how I had the nerve. ‘I’ll miss you …’ Those words make me roar with laughter now, but at the time it was pretty mean of me. I loved my husband, but I wanted a cat so badly. Anyway, I reasoned, I’d been shown the cat in a dream; it was like destiny had stepped in. I couldn’t help myself. That’s the excuse I came up with.

After making numerous phone calls I finally found a rescue kitten being taken care of by a Cats Protection rescue family. It fitted my description. Now, sitting on the sofa in this home, I’ll be honest I was disappointed when the woman placed a small brown fluffy – and a little bit unattractive – kitten on the sofa next to me. Her brothers, twice the size, looked like the sort you might find in a magazine or television advertisement. This one was clearly the runt of the litter. But then everything changed in a moment. She looked up at me and crawled along the sofa and then climbed onto my lap. I think I loved her from that very moment. We connected and I knew that, yes, this was my cat, even if she didn’t look ‘quite right’ yet.

Magik would be ready for rehoming a couple of weeks later. When I telephoned to make arrangements to pick her up, however, I was told the cats had ear mites. ‘No problem,’ I protested. ‘I can treat her at home.’ But no, there were rules, apparently. The kittens had to be treated before they could be adopted and taken away. Another week passed and I called several times. Each time it felt like I was being fobbed off and I was beginning to panic. I rang my sister. ‘Come with me!’ I begged. ‘I want to go and collect her now!’ We had no appointment, no way of knowing if they’d even be home and it was a good 25-minute drive away. But we did it! I grabbed my cat carrier, a blanket to line the bottom of the hard plastic case and the money we’d agreed for the exchange. We jumped in the car and drove right to the house. Bizarrely, a removal van was sitting outside the house. Unexpectedly the family were being moved to a new location and were surprised to see me. The van was half loaded with boxes and household items. They were moving out that very moment! I was completely shocked. Whether they had changed their minds about having the kitten adopted or not I will never know. Faced with me and my sister standing determinedly at the door with a smile fixed firmly on our faces, cat carrier in hand, we made the transaction and I put my bundle of fur into the basket.

I cried with relief as I drove her home. I felt a psychic connection had been made. Why was I feeling so panicked about the cat? She was meant to come to me and I was feeling a great urgency that someone … or something … was directing at me. Why did I feel that way? What made me want to drive so far without an appointment and no guarantee that anyone would even be home? I can honestly say I have no idea, but whatever or whomever it was that was warning me, urging me on, I thank them to this very day. I always think it’s important to follow that ‘gut instinct’ or strong urging that we feel from time to time. It’s not usually wrong.

Magik never really grew very much. She was always a tiny cat. So much so that her nickname was ‘kitten’ and she would happily come to me if I called her that. She spent much of her day sitting on or under my desk. She was always clean and right from the start she litter-trained herself. I recall there was only ever one accident and it was totally my fault. I hadn’t cleaned her litter box to her satisfaction, so she found her own litter tray – a cardboard box full of books that was sitting under my desk. As I saw her climb in I simply laughed … then I noticed her squatting! I grabbed her but it was too late – she and I both got very wet that day. But it never happened again and it made a funny story, which I repeated over and over.

As the weeks went by she shed her brown baby ‘fluff’ and a fine, silky black fur emerged. She had a tiny triangle-shaped face. More like a Siamese cat, really; she was gorgeous. She finally looked like the cat of my dream. She really was adorable, and had a lovely temperament to go with it. She loved to be with me. She was the companion that I needed and had hoped for.

One day shortly after the squatting incident, I was sitting with my family watching the television when we heard a gentle thud, thud, thud. Curious, we all rushed into the hallway just in time to see a box gently slip down the last two steps. Then the box popped open and Magik poked her head through the top. Realising she was okay we all burst out laughing. She had effectively skied down the stairs! As she peeped her head out of the box it was like she was waiting for us all to clap! It was the first of many such humorous moments.

Another day we were all sitting down in the living room again when we heard an almighty smash. Rushing to the bedroom upstairs I saw a large angel statue broken into numerous pieces all over the floor. Its previous location had been the windowsill and I was surprised to see that the window was closed – no breeze. What had happened? As I turned around both Tigger and Magik were snuggled up on the bed. Neither had moved, which was surprising in itself, and both were looking up with a strange ‘innocence’ about them, a kind of fake ‘Who? Us? … No, that was nothing to do with us …’ look upon their faces. Once more I found myself laughing, but of course I couldn’t prove a thing.

Tigger and Magik were never really best buddies, but it was a respectful tolerance that they shared. As they passed each other they would sometimes lift their heads up as if they were saying ‘Wass’up?’ A sort of ghetto-cat greeting. At other times they would rub up against each other, but it usually ended up with Magik’s head in Tigger’s mouth. Don’t worry; Magik always got her own back. Even though she was small she was always much brighter than her ‘big brother’. Magik was more agile and would jump onto a higher surface, tapping or grabbing at Tigger when he passed by. He was never bright enough to work out what was going on. She loved to climb on top of the pine wooden box in our living room – it served as both a footstool and a coffee table and was also the perfect height for her to attack her nemesis. Magik loved to reach out and pat Tigger on the head when he walked by. Tigger would spin around, trying to find her, and then run round and round the box. Magik would tuck herself back out of sight and get him on his next trip around. Tigger never did work out that Magik was on top of the box, and it provided us with many hours of amusement.

Tigger regularly jumped on Magik’s back or got her in a headlock. However subtly, that little ‘kitten’ always found a way to show him who was boss, though. One day Magik was asleep on a chair and Tigger jumped up and pushed her off so that he could claim the chair as his own. It was a deliberate move. Magik slowly snuck underneath the chair and pulled on his wagging tail, which was hanging down the back of the chair, before making a mad dash for it. Once again, Tigger, always a little dopey, had no idea what was happening. By the time he’d worked it out and looked under the chair, Magik was hiding behind the nearby sofa, no doubt having a giggle at her cleverness! Cats give us hours of fun and laughter, don’t they? I’m sure you have similar cat stories of your own.

Being a writer is a lonely business, or it can be. Lots of writers have cats … or dogs. Their gentle companionship is soothing and relaxing. It’s easier to say, ‘Well, I was talking to the cat,’ rather than admit one was talking to oneself! Both cats spent a lot of time with me in my writing room (a conservatory at first, then a large converted garage at the next house and then two bedrooms in the next two houses – yes, we moved a lot).

Both cats loved being in the room with me, but my little one wanted to be under the desk at my feet or right on top of the desk, sometimes on the keyboard itself. One of my earliest photographs of her was of her peeking around my laptop. She was so tiny that the laptop would have hidden her completely. There is another wonderful photograph of her sitting in a basket of fan mail and readers’ letters that were waiting to be answered. These images regularly appeared on my website and in my columns and magazine articles. The cats developed a bit of a fanbase of their own. People would often write and ask me how they were. I also wrote about both cats in my books. When Magik passed, the first thing I did was to share the news on my social media pages. The support I had from my followers was amazing, and I will never forget their kindness.

When Magik died it was completely unexpected. The vet told me that she had complete kidney failure. We’d missed the signs, if in fact there had been any. Right up until 24 hours earlier she had been leaping six-foot fences and climbing on the roof next to the window where my office was. She showed no signs of the muscle wastage the vet found. She was always a noisy cat, so if she’d been yelping more than normal we couldn’t tell. Could we have done something? Should we have noticed? Maybe. I’ve owned cats my whole life and had never come across this before. Who knows? And anyway, for Magik, her time was done. There was no point in the ‘could have, should have’ that we all put ourselves through. She was still a young cat, but she was gone.

She was the sweetest, gentlest cat you could ever wish to own. We all loved her very much. Several family members shed a tear for the loss of this precious little girl and she will never be forgotten. Thankfully we have stacks of lovely photographs to remember her by.

So now, as I sit here typing, I feel her with me, urging me to write. Go on, Mum, tell some wonderful true-life stories. So here they are.

Chapter 2
Paranormal phenomena

Over the years I’ve received hundreds of spiritual and paranormal letters about animals, but one animal stands out among all the others … cats. Maybe it’s because I’ve been such a big cat owner myself. Strangely, this is the first time in 35 years that I haven’t owned a cat at all. My fur babies are all now in heaven, but don’t feel sad for me; they all visit from the other side … but more of that later!

If you’ve read my other books, you’ll know how important cats have been to me. My last pets – Tigger, the fat ginger tomcat, and Magik, both of whom we’ve already met – used to sit in my office all day long. Actually they would follow me from room to room, so if I stood up to make a cup of coffee or pop to the bathroom, I’d probably trip over them on my way out of the door. All cat owners will totally relate to this! There is a type of psychic connection between cat owners and their pets. We understand them and it goes far beyond the subtle clues they leave.

Cats look at you and communicate with their own language … You mean you don’t hear it? I bet you do. Like me, I’m sure you reply to your cats as if they have spoken. Does your conversation go something like this?

Yes, hello, did you want me, cat? Aww, you’ve come for a little fuss? Okay then. Don’t look at me with those sad eyes. Are you hungry? Yes, you are … yes, you are. Come on then, let’s go and get you something to eat … [Cat jumps up and walks immediately to its bowl!]

But this conversation has two sides. There is your side of the conversation, and the side going on inside your head, the cat’s reply. It goes something like this (cats don’t speak in full sentences, I’m guessing, and probably don’t use grammar):

Cat: … Where going?

You: I’m only walking into the kitchen. Why are you following me?

Cat: … I come too?

You: I’m only getting a cup of tea and coming right back. Why are you following me?

Cat: … I still come? … Miss you …

You: Daft cat, get out from under my feet …

Cat: … Coming back soon? I come too, yes?

You: I’m going back into the lounge now, are you coming?

Cat: … Okay. I miss you. I love you, human … Feed me now? Feed me, feed me, feed me? Food now, okay? No food? Fuss? Okay …

As a pet owner, you have an understanding of how your cat (or other animals) communicates with you, with us, their human. Certainly this simple language is exchanged. You don’t have to be psychic to know it happens. You ‘hear the voice’ and assume you are imagining it, but what if you really are ‘hearing’ your cat’s thoughts (though not their words exactly)? Later on I’ll be sharing my encounter with an animal psychic – you’ll be surprised, as I was, at the results!

I work alone in my little office/writing room in my apartment near the sea in Cornwall. This is the first home in years where we (my husband John and I) haven’t owned a cat at all, and it seems strange that this is the time when I happened to be due to write the book about cat experiences. Tigger and Magik were my loving friends in five different houses. I was lucky enough to have my own writing rooms in each of those homes, and also a big wrap-around office desk. Often the cats would sit one on each side of me as I typed – like constant bookends, they kept me company and seemed to bring me a sense of calm and contentment. It was as if they were fulfilling their life’s mission: to look after me while I performed my role as author, sharing messages of love from the afterlife. They played their part, preventing me from spending long hours alone. In my modern and much smaller apartment, I now have a very small desk. The larger desk I once owned seemed too big and lonely without my little friends to share it with.

As I explained, when Magik passed away it was completely unexpected and I was devastated. But it happened when I was creating a set of inspirational cards called ‘Messages from Heaven’. I was able to include a photograph of Magik on one of the cards, a memorial to her and a constant reminder of how she would always be there for me, though in another form – a spirit, no longer in an earthly body.

Tigger became ill more slowly. He was young, too – just 10 years old – and it was I who made the decision to conclude his life. My own angels had warned me several days before that it was ‘his time’, so I prepared myself. But who wants to hear such a message? I’d sort of felt the message in my gut. It’s hard to explain, but it’s as if the idea of it just kept occurring to me over and over again.

I questioned the voices in my head: ‘If it’s time for Tigger to go, I’ll know when because he will get hit by a car …’ I gestured. Maybe I thought it would never happen because he was always so good with traffic, so experienced. I suppose I thought it would be easier somehow. If he got hit by a car, the decision wouldn’t be mine. The car would be a clear, big and obvious sign. I don’t feel I wished this on him. That was furthest from my mind. But when he got knocked down by a passing car the very next day, I was still stunned … and it wasn’t any easier at all … but I knew my voices were correct and I took him along to the vet. It was time to say goodbye, but luckily not forever. Both of my cats came back to see me one last time after they had died.

I wrote about how my cats popped back to ‘say goodbye’ in one of my other books, but if I may, I’d like to share it here too. I was asleep one day when my dream cleared to one side, as it were, and I became very lucid and aware in my mind while my body slept on. I felt a cat rub up against my legs and, assuming it was Tigger (who was still alive at the time), I reached down to pick him up. I rubbed the soft fur against my face and it was only at this time that I realised the soft silky down was actually Magik’s. Tears ran down my cheek as I understood that she had come back to say goodbye. I kissed her little face in joy, and then she struggled to get down. I placed her on the floor and she ran out of the cat flap. We were in the room where she’d spent her final two hours – the conservatory of our old house. She, or someone in charge, had chosen this familiar room as our final meeting place.

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