by Deb Gibson

I was never a “cat” person. Give me a dog any day. Dogs were cuddly. Dogs loved to be near you. Dogs would do tricks. Dogs loved being loved. Cats were aloof. Cats were too independent. Cats just wanted a person to wait on them “paw” and foot. That perception changed, starting on December 10, 2004.

My good friend, Jim, died suddenly and unexpectedly that morning. Jim lived alone. His parents were gone and he had no siblings or partner. His only relatives were elderly distant cousins who lived about 60 miles away. Jim’s life revolved around Bummer, his 9-year-old cat. After hearing the news of Jim’s death, my first thought was “What is going to happen to Bummer?” I knew Jim would haunt me forever if I let Bummer go to the shelter. So I brought Bummer home with me until arrangements could be made for a new home. I guess you can figure out where that new home was.


Bummer was with me and my dog, Rascal, for a little over 4 years. Shortly before his journey over the Rainbow Bridge, he was diagnosed with extensive cancer. Before I delved into all the procedures and surgery that the vet suggested, I contacted an animal communicator that I learned about from a colleague at work to see how Bummer wanted to proceed. I was new to animal communication at that time, and I was fascinated that we, as humans, could actually “hear” what animals had to say. She connected with Bummer, and he said he was tired, and he was ready to go be with Jim again because his mission in this lifetime was accomplished. When I asked what that mission was, he told me it was to turn me into a “cat” person. And I had to agree, he fulfilled his mission. I called the vet, and the next morning, Bummer was reunited with Jim.

After I returned from a mission trip about a month later, my best friend, Mary, and I went to the local shelter to find a cat. It was early April, so there were about 250 cats from which to choose. As we went into the first cat room, where the cats were housed in stackable metal cages, one cat, who was named Mama Bear and was in a cage at about shoulder level, came to the front of her cage and extended her paw through the bars to connect with me. While I felt a connection with her, I thought it would be wise to go through all the rooms and look at all of the cats. Not a one showed any interest in me whatsoever. So we went back to see Mama Bear. She had returned to the back of her cage. When she saw me, she came back to the front of the cage, and again extended her paw. That was it. I went to the adoption desk to fill out the paperwork, and changed her name to Princess. That was 5 years ago!


I connected with Andrea in late 2012, when we were registered to attend the same Animal Reiki class in Florida. I asked the host if anyone was looking for a room mate to share expenses, and she sent me Andrea’s contact info. There were so many syncronicities at work here: Andrea is the same name as my daughter. Her last name, Ross, was the name of the township on the north side of Pittsburgh where I was living at the time. She, like my daughter, loved horses, to name just a few. Circumstances intervened that kept Andrea from attending the workshop. However, we have kept in touch.

In April 2013, after I had moved to Harrisburg, PA, I was getting ready for work. I noticed Princess was making several trips to the litter box, but nothing was being expelled. I feared that she was having kidney problems or perhaps a blockage. I called the vet, and he said to bring her right over. While my anxiety and fear were taking over, I thought of Andrea. It had been awhile since we had talked, but I called her anyway. I explained the situation, and she stopped whatever she was doing and connected with Princess while I was driving to the vet. She said Princess wasn’t feeling quite right, but could not detect any serious problems. The vet kept Princess for the day, ran some bloodwork and some tests, and I picked her up after work. She recovered quite nicely. Still don’t know exactly what was going on.

I am very grateful for Andrea’s willingness to help me out on the spur of the moment. She calmed my anxiety and fear to the place where I could be present on a rational level when talking to the vet. She enabled me to be in a mental state that I could pick and choose the tests for the vet to do that would do the most good, without putting Princess, and my pocketbook, through needless stress.

Princess is now 7 years old, and has been with me for 5 years. She has had no relapse of symptoms, and is in a very healthy place. I am blessed and so very grateful that she chose me on that day in April, 2009. She has a very big place in my heart!

Previous post:

Next post: