Tuesday, November 22, 2016
Living with Umshaan for 11 years has been one of my greatest privileges. This is a tribute to that beautiful feline master. Last week I had to let him return from whence he came.
Umshaan – meaning ‘gift’ in one of the Sirian languages – was a royal kind of feline being in a cat’s body this incarnation. To be specific, a fussy little Maine Coone. Very particular with his food, he would eat nothing but the dry poison, as I call it. He was addicted.
And once, he went on a week-long starvation to protest to me that he would never be one I could convert to a raw food diet, as I was trying with all the feline family at the time.
As is true of the Maine Coone breed, his kitten-like behavior and affection remained intact right up until his last days. He loved playing.
He loved me kissing and nuzzling his tummy and he would almost-never not purr when I zoned in for a neck scratch, kiss, hug or tickle. Apparently, he despised his long, fluffy tail that would get caught up all over the place and hampered his agility a bit, even from the early days.
Unless he was in pain, he was always good-natured. And almost-always was he the first to greet me, jumping onto the fence to welcome me home as I parked. Always so filled with grace and giving was his service, that each time I made some favourable inner change, he would come rushing in to pummel my heart, throat, crown chakra or head somewhere to help release or anchor in the ‘new’.
He was an upper body chakra specialist. Especially the crown chakra.
Once in dream time (that I remember), he took me to his world. I still haven't forgotten it. We were suddenly in a huge, raked, slightly-rounded auditorium of sorts. All the decision-makers of the cat kingdom were there. There were cats of all descriptions, but somehow not unrecognisable to me. No one there took much notice of me so I clearly wasn't an unusual presence.
Instead of chairs, there were cat-sized alcoves that each sat in. Then there was a stage of sorts at the bottom in the front where the VIP's were waiting for the meeting to begin. I never did discover his 'position' there.
It felt like cat heaven to me and I suddenly turned around to find Umshaan had disappeared. I went into fear, wondering how I was going to find my way home without him and with that thought, there he was again.
Then there was the two year period of his testing. The neigbourhood nasty feline tom, much younger than him, took every opportunity to beat Umshaan up. I asked for protection countless times and all sorts of other things on his behalf, but none of it seemed to help.
Shaan was the gentlest being without an aggressive bone in his body and no 'Alpha' male cat issues. Though he was the oldest, he was quite happy deferring to my other young boy, Avalon. Anything for peace. But the grey mafia-style cat was on a daily mission to intimidate and hurt him in any way he could.
I would go outside to see Umshaan held in his field like prey, sometimes for ages.
Months ago, probably around June or July it was impressed upon me that he could be wanting to leave...soon. I tried to write that off to imagination. I just didn’t want to acknowledge that in any way.
Though my house is pretty small, Umshaan’s presence was so huge, that this small house (with numerous other cats) has felt quite empty since he left.
Dear Shaan, I hope that I have been able to serve and give to you just a fraction of what you did for me. Before you came to be with me you were already a very developed and evolved being. You have always had an enormous capacity for love and compassion.
Which other cats in their final moments of life - while gasping for air and shuddering while starting seizures - would do what you did?
Driving to the vet to do the deed that day, I burst into hysterical tears in disbelief that you’d be leaving.
Yet even while you lay on the back seat trussed up in a blanket in horrific agony, somehow you tried to hobble over the seats into my lap so you could comfort me!
It all happened so quickly after what I thought was just another UTI, which I was going to treat in the regular way with Vitamin C. I’d had a history of kitty success with that remedy. But this time I found it strange you didn’t co-operate. You rejected and spat out your doses. When I realized you didn’t want them this time and then ran away for a day and a half so I couldn't help heal you, I knew you meant to leave your precious body.
I tried my best to honour that though it was painful and my personality attachment to you was doing it's thing.
Later you and yours thanked me for making it easy for you to leave. That was once I’d been assured of your joyous reunion with your family and friends.
You blessed and enriched my world and helped me in so many ways. And you did it with your specific hallmarks - love, play and your regal nature.
I miss your playfulness and your pummelling.
I love you and always will, beloved furry friend of my heart.
Big hugs and kisses