Janette_Tootsie_PumpkinAt 2:15 pm, September 30 2007, my sweet, lifetime, special needs, kitty girl Tootsie translated, or passed on. I can't say exactly what she died from. She had tumours; she had severe arthritis and neurological issues.

I promised Tootsie life when I found her in the U District in Seattle in 1992. She had been hit by a car, and in 1993, she broke her hip. Five hundred dollars was a lot of money for me to pay at the time, but I took out every penny from my savings for her hip surgery. I asked her if she wanted to live or die. She said live. So what does a mother do? She goes broke.

Tootsie was a terrified, feral cat for two-thirds of our time together, preferring aloneness. Then she opened up and completely trusted everyone. Her heart had been pierced by all the unconditional love in her life. She now was the princess of everyone's heart.

In the past few years she wanted to sit on my lap and have me hold her, rock her, sing to her. Oh, she loves the singing! She would always walk or crawl to get into the centre of my world if I was singing, or if Tim Lamar and I were practicing our songs together. She loved the sound current of loving harmonics.

Tootsie has always been extra time and effort in my life. And she has always been grateful, loving, quiet and out of the way. She was graceful and incredibly accommodating to any situation. She just wanted life.

It was an obvious, special, soul-to-soul agreement we had made. I kept my promise, though in the past two years, as her hips deteriorated, I wanted the whole responsibility to be over. The time and effort had become more intense.

Again, always asking her, "Do you still want life or is it time to pass from this life? I know you are in pain." Always, her answer was life. So, it was.

The nine months I lived in the east coast was prison for her. My other cat Pumpkin did not like it there either. He was terrified of the strange vibrations. It was not home for either of them.

Tootsie began to roll up in a ball, and that became her existence. I promised both my cats I would bring them back to the land they were accustomed to, where they and I belonged, at least in this life.

I kept my promise to Tootsie that she would have joy with a green back yard in the vibrations of her homeland. After we moved back to the west coast, she had one and a half glorious months in Kirkland, Washington. She basked in the sun on green grass -- happy, content and at home.

In Kirkland Tootsie was so happy that she began to walk by herself on all fours. She no longer dragged her hiney around. She was using her back two legs.

Then she began to want to climb the stairs, so I'd lift her hind end up with a finger on the top of her diapers. (Yes, diapers, as she couldn't climb into the cat box.) This way, I would steer her, and daily she would very proudly and determinedly climb two little flights of stairs. She was strong, and oh, so happy with herself. We were very grateful for this very soft landing in a house that has been perfect for my cats and me that a very kind soul from my spiritual path offered us all. Thank you, Jon.

Then, unexpectedly, after a day of much walking around by herself, Tootsie could not move at all.

Trying to be aligned with God's time, I didn't believe that it was really the time to let Tootsie go. It was agonizing for me to understand what to do. She was in obvious pain and yet there was still this timing thing. I still had to wait and listen.

I was given some money by another dear friend to get Tootsie euthanized. Yet she and I were not ready. We needed one more day.

When that day came, I knew it was finally time. Tootsie was in the purest alignment with the inner and outer worlds. I was in alignment with her and with these invisible forces. I took her to the humane society with a friend. Tootsie and I said our good-byes.

I sang the song that came to me from the inner worlds when Tootsie first got hit by the car some fourteen years ago. It goes like this:

"Well, she's my pretty little girl, in the whole wide world. She's my pretty little girl, in the whole wide world. She's my pretty little girl, in the whole wide world."

I sang this song over and over in a special tune that will always be engraved inside me. Tootsie always responded to that song if she was hiding somewhere. On her last day, in her semi-coma state of going in and out of her body, I sang her song to her. She looked up at me with such love in her eyes, gazing deep into mine. We were timeless together. As I stroked her face, I told her how much I loved her and that we would meet again.

Tootsie left with the grace, love, and dignity that she had always embraced.

I have learned the qualities of grace, gratitude, the spirit of continuing on, and so much unconditional love and tolerance from this little soul. And one more soul in life will be a spiritual giant. Because of our love and respect, Tootsie learned that she could receive.

This is the same respect that all souls, be it animal, human, reptile, or even bug deserves. I learned from the Native American ancient ways and from my own spiritual teachings the way to live: To walk softly on the earth; to respect all of life.


JanetteJanette Marie Warren enjoys working as a cranio-sacral and lymph drainage therapist and is a pioneer for health and longevity.

Janette has a website:  www.iahp.com/janettewarren

She welcomes emails at jwarrenhealthysolutions@gmail.com . Her story, "Guardian Angel Bees" is in Allen and Linda Anderson's book ANGEL ANIMALS: Divine Messengers of Miracles.

This story by Janette originally appeared in www.angelanimals.com and Janette gave me kind permission to use it here, for which I am very grateful.

Click here to read about Pumpkin: the cat who came back

A Morning Kiss

A morning kiss, a discreet touch of his nose landing somewhere on the middle of my face.
Because his long white whiskers tickled, I began every day laughing.

Janet F Faure

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