Willow, the Sophia Loren of the Cat World
‘Stop trying to please everyone else and put yourself first. They will show you more love and respect if you do.’
WILLOW
Jane approached me back in May 2007. She was 40 years old, the director of her own marketing company and an experienced guardian to cats, having lived with them all her life. She wanted me to communicate with her 15-year-old cat, Willow, but to understand why she made contact about Willow, we first need to hear about my communication with her rabbit.
Jane had found me the year before through a search for alternative animal healing when her rabbit, Peter, had problems with overgrown teeth and was in danger of being put to sleep.
To connect with Peter I looked at his photograph and went through my process to forge a link. I began by inhaling and exhaling slowly, using my breathing to relax my body and mind. Then I moved my focus into my heart and imagined reaching out from my heart to Peter’s heart, sending him the frequency of my loving intention. I spoke to him silently in my mind, explaining who I was and why I was linking in with him. We began to communicate and I received his thought forms in my mind, hearing them as my own inner voice. He told me there was still a spike on one of his teeth and it had caused another ulcer. He also told me it was not his time to pass over.
Despite her vet having already given Peter a dental inspection and treatment, Jane chose to act on his information and made another appointment. The vet discovered Peter was right and a spike had been missed. The information Peter had communicated saved his life and he went on to live for over two more years. As the communication was life-changing, literally, Jane decided she needed to hear from all her other animals and Willow, her favourite cat, would have to be first.
Being based in Gloucestershire, she opted for another distant communication. I can go to people’s homes to visit their animals, but due to geographical location the majority of guardians opt for distant communication.
Jane e-mailed me a photo of Willow and the questions she wanted me to put to her. This time she wasn’t looking for a specific answer to a physical illness; what she really wanted to know was what was going on in Willow’s mind and whether she was happy.
‘She has been my cat since she was eight weeks old and she is 16 years old next month. The bond between the two of us seems immense. She talks to me, says “Hello” in a cat meow and I am just captivated by her. This one will certainly break me when it’s time for goodbye. Could you just have a general chat, as I am fascinated by the connection I have with her? I love all my animals, but the connection with Willow seems so strong.’
When I looked at Willow’s picture I saw a cat exuding elegance. Her fur was a subtle tabby blend of toffee, coffee and chocolate and she was lying on a fawn-coloured cushion on a sofa, her face towards the camera. Her right leg was draped beautifully over the left, revealing two pristine white paws. She boasted a white heart-shaped chest and her whiskers, too, were milky white, proud and wide. Her pale pistachio eyes immediately commanded respect. Willow was posing for the camera and waiting.
Many animals seem to expect me when I communicate with them, but it doesn’t matter if they are busy doing something or even sleeping, because the connection is energetic. It goes beyond the external behaviour to discover what the animal is feeling on a deeper level. It transcends body language. It also transcends space. I don’t need to have the animal in front of me – a good photo is enough for me to build a link with them, whether they are still in physical form or have passed over.
The moment I connected with Willow I heard a loud roarrrr inside my head. Was Willow roaring at me? This was the first time a cat had done that during a communication. She certainly had a huge energy, which was very strong and spirited. When I felt her looking back at me it was as if she was looking straight through me. She was confident, in charge and not a cat to be messed with, despite her beguiling air of sophistication.
The next thing I heard inside my mind was: ‘The queen.’ These were unusual impressions from an animal, but I wrote them down anyway, because although they meant nothing to me, they might mean something to Willow’s guardian.
I continued to sense as much as I could about Willow while holding her in awe. Once I’d received a number of details I e-mailed Jane some first impressions, which I asked her to verify so we could both check the connection.
‘Jane, I feel that Willow is a lion in a cat’s body. The first thing I received was her giving me one of her best roars.’
‘This made me laugh,’ wrote Jane. ‘She has always sat in the position of the Sphinx, but with her front paws elegantly crossed in front of her. Does she really think she’s a lion? I do tell her she’s a sphinx. Do you think I’ve brainwashed her?’
On the contrary, I thought, Willow is doing the brainwashing.
Jane confirmed my feeling that Willow had a big presence and was very strong-minded: ‘It’s either Willow’s way or no way.’
‘Willow says she likes to sleep up by your chest and heart area,’ I went on, ‘but you prefer her to sleep lower down the bed by your feet.’
‘Oh yes, Willow is a well-cosseted cat. My husband is pushed to the very edge, I am in the middle and Willow spreads out on the other side. However much I try and move her lower down the bed she won’t have any of it and walks all over me to get back up by my pillow and sometimes even on my head!’
My next impression was a little more private: ‘Willow tells me that you share special moments in the bathroom with her.’
‘Mmmm, I wouldn’t say “special moments”,’ Jane replied, ‘but my bathroom is my sanctuary. There I am no longer a director, a wife, a mother, a sister… I am just me, lying in bubbles for a few minutes with nobody asking me anything. But Willow will often time it that as soon as I climb into the bath she cries at the door to be let in. I’ll clamber out, dripping wet, and open the door, and she’ll have a drink of water from her bowl, which she insists on having in the bathroom, and then lie on the bath mat waiting for me. If I decide to stay in the bath for longer than usual, she will get bored and ask to be let out. The whole clambering-out routine will happen all over again.’
So, those were what Willow considered special moments.
I went onto the next impression Willow wished to share with Jane: ‘I adore her.’
Later Jane told me, ‘Now that is what I wanted to hear… the purrs and cuddles and rubbing were enough to let me know she loved me, but for her to communicate that was such a special moment.’
These details were just the beginning of a larger tapestry which was about to be unveiled.
The next impression I sent Jane was: ‘You have two daughters who are lots of fun, smiley and happy.’
‘No,’ Jane’s heart dropped. ‘I don’t have any daughters, just one son.’
I felt so sure Willow was talking about two daughters I decided to bring it up again later when we were on the phone.
We continued with further impressions and Jane was happy that I had made a connection with Willow. We arranged a telephone appointment.
I began by explaining the procedure and that Jane could interrupt me at any point to ask questions, take notes or seek clarification. When she was ready, we began.
Rather than simply answering Jane’s questions, Willow wanted to say one or two things of her own. One of the first was: ‘I am the queen.’
‘I’ve always called her that!’ Jane exclaimed. ‘I can’t believe that now she’s telling you in no uncertain terms that she is the queen. I also sing her a little song.’
‘How does it go?’ I asked.
Jane started to sing it:
‘Willow is the queen of the May and the June,
Willow is the queen of the sun and the moon,
Willow is the queen of the land and the sea,
Willow is the queen who belongs to me!’
I loved the fact that Jane sang to Willow. Continuing, I said, ‘As well as referring to herself as a queen, or rather the queen, I feel she has a very Sophia Loren quality to her. She’s got a strong feminine strength and is really quite beautiful. In fact, Willow is the Sophia Loren of the cat world.’
Jane looked across at Willow, who was yet again lying Sphinx-like across her cushion with her front legs crossed. She said, ‘Willow has just blinked at me very slowly as if to say “I am.”’
This made me laugh. It was very Willow. She had good self-esteem and considered herself stunning. If only all females had such a healthy view of themselves.
Jane was happy with the communication so far and it was now time to bring the two daughters up again. I knew I needed to be as delicate as possible because of what I was about to say.
‘May I ask, have you ever lost any children, Jane?’
‘Yes, I had two miscarriages before having my son.’
‘Do you happen to know if they were girls?’
‘No, the doctors never told me. One was at 10 weeks and the other at 15 weeks.’
‘Would the timing make sense if I said one of the girls would be 11 now and the other 12?’
There was a prolonged silence and then in a quiet voice Jane answered, ‘Yes.’
‘Willow is giving me the name “Bethany”,’ I said. ‘Does that make sense to you?’
‘Oh my God! Nobody, but nobody, knew that was the name I had chosen for the second pregnancy: Bethany. Bethany Jane. Nobody would know that – you certainly wouldn’t – but Willow does!’
Jane felt herself go cold with shock.
‘Did she say anything else?’
‘Yes. She said, “She has two daughters. They are lots of fun – smiley, happy girls. I like the little one, Bethany, the best.”’
Jane went quiet and I felt she was going to cry, but then I heard Willow say, ‘Tell her Bethany is the naughty one.’
I repeated it for Jane, who burst out laughing. ‘It’s typical of Willow to make me laugh if I feel down, and only she could make a judgement about someone being naughty, someone I have never met.’
‘She’s going on to talk about your son.’
‘What does she say?’
‘He has a lot to learn.’
Jane laughed. After the call she passed Willow’s message on to her 11-year-old son, Jake, who was surprised and asked, ‘What does she mean?’
Jane helped me understand. ‘I know exactly what Willow means. Willow wraps humans – well, me – around her little finger. She will cry and I am there, but not Jake. She will often get a lump in her blanket which simply needs straightening – a queen cannot lie on a creased blanket – and she’ll walk in a circle moaning. Jake will tell her to shush, but not me – I’ll be there straightening it out.’
Willow also had her own views on Jane’s husband: ‘Willow says, “Derek is nice, but he doesn’t appreciate Jane enough. She works very hard and is very generous. He needs to share the jobs more.”’
She even expressed her thoughts about the rabbit.
‘I feel Willow is a bit jealous of your rabbit,’ I told Jane.
‘Yes, she licks her lips and starts hissing if Peter comes up,’ she confirmed.
‘Willow sees you all as equal. She’s as much a member of the family as anyone else. I sense that she’s a bit stiff in her shoulders and a bit more cantankerous than usual, more demanding, but she says, “There’s nothing to worry about. I eat well, sleep well and feel very strong.”’
Jane laughed again.
I finished the communication by giving her Willow’s final message: ‘Love, love, love.’
‘You have summed her up so well,’ Jane said. ‘I knew she was a character but now I have evidence, which I feel I can trust because of all the details you couldn’t possibly have known, including the name “Bethany” – and all this from her photo!’
Later she wrote:
‘Both my son and husband were surprised by how much Willow communicated and for days afterwards they both seemed to be on their best behaviour whenever she came into the room. It was almost “Better behave or Willow will tell Pea.” I must admit that for a few days after the communication Jake was up like a shot if Willow moaned, but that didn’t last long.
The communication was simply fabulous. It filled me with such happiness to have evidence that Willow did know what was going on in our lives. I wasn’t frightened or nervous and it was delivered in such a caring way. It was so appropriate.’
I was impressed by Willow myself. She had tuned in to Jane’s energy and understood that she had lost not one but two of her children. As well as this, she had been aware of their characters in their soul existence. In the most extraordinary way she had been able to heal Jane’s aching heart.
On 9 December 2009 Jane asked me to communicate with Willow again. ‘Tests have revealed her kidneys are deteriorating rapidly,’ she told me. ‘I feel devastated. She’s 18, but I’m not ready to let her go. I’d like one more year, please. Can you find out if there’s anything I can do?’
I connected with Willow by looking at her photo and once more began to take notes of the impressions she was giving me:
‘Nothing is too much of a problem. Willow sometimes needs a hand up onto the sofa, but she doesn’t mind.
Her sense of dignity is strong.
She adores biscuits (for humans) – “A lady should be able to eat whatever she likes.”
Lower spine/coccyx – arthritic feeling. Hips and back legs are worse – the sensation is grating.
She is very calm and serene.
“I am not struggling so badly, dear one. Don’t worry yet. Just keep calm.”
She loves it when Jane admires her white paws and white chest.’
When Jane and I started our phone call she asked me not to tell her if I felt Willow would transition soon. She asked her first question: ‘I really want to know what else she wants me to do for her.’
‘Just keep calm,’ Willow replied. ‘You are doing everything perfectly. Don’t worry any more.’
‘That cat knows me far too well – I worry when I’ve nothing to worry about,’ Jane said.
‘I like the warmth,’ Willow continued, ‘a heated pad, a source of warmth. You know this.’
‘I was about to buy a heat pad for her,’ Jane said, surprised. ‘It’s been on my mind for a while. Another thing I need to know is, am I doing anything wrong?’
‘Not a thing, dear,’ Willow replied.
‘I just want to understand a bit more what’s going on,’ Jane told me. ‘I still feel Willow has a huge energy about her, but I do wonder sometimes if I’m just hoping she has.’
I explained, ‘Her energy is waning, but she is still happy with life. She still feels as strong mentally as she’s always been and she’s positive, upbeat, calm, sophisticated and unflustered.’
‘I know she’s an old cat and is slower,’ Jane said, ‘but she’s probably the most spoiled and loved cat that ever purred on this planet. This one is my little soul mate. I want to make sure that she is happy and not in too much pain.’
Willow replied, ‘My lower back and legs ache quite consistently, but I am peaceful.’
‘What does she want me to do?’
‘Everything you’re doing now,’ said Willow. ‘Just love me.’
Much later, looking back at the communication, Jane realized that Willow was protecting her from the full extent of her situation and at the same time preparing her for the inevitable. She reflected:
‘Like a mother protects a child, Willow was protecting me. I am sure she knew that I would have had the most miserable Christmas knowing that this was the last one with my girl, and she chose to spare my feelings. I hoped in my heart that you were going to say, “Oh, Willow is fine, she has such huge energy and she’s going nowhere.” I hoped, but it was never said. The communication was comforting, but at the same time I knew deep down that it would be the last one with my girl on the Earth plane. I knew it wasn’t going to be long, but I couldn’t accept it. Her closing words still resonate. When asked if I was doing everything right for her, she replied, “Of course you are, my dear. You’re doing everything perfectly.” So ladylike, so much dignity, so Willow.’
Over Christmas and New Year Willow’s health continued to slide. She spent most of her time on her special cushion, snuggled up and warm under a pink blanket. Jane would sit for hours stroking her and talking to her and Willow would blink slowly to acknowledge her. Her back legs had gone and she could hardly stand or walk. Then throughout one morning she was sick. Jane wrote:
‘I held her over her litter tray to spare her dignity, as she hadn’t the strength to get there herself. The vet took more bloods to ascertain whether it was her kidneys or whether her potassium was low, as this can happen in cats with renal failure. I knew in my heart that she wouldn’t recover.
The day before her passing I sat with her and sobbed, because I felt the time was getting nearer. She stretched her paw out and placed it on my hand. Was she telling me, “Hey, don’t worry, it’ll be fine,” or was she saying, “Let me go”?
The next morning I sat with her, kissed her and told her how special she was. She looked up from her cushion and our eyes met. I knew then she was telling me to let her go. I told her to stop fighting it and that I felt happy for her to leave me now. I gave her permission, as I knew it wasn’t fair to expect her to stay any longer.
Our vet, Jason, rang later with the results and told me, “Her kidneys have totally failed.” In less than a month they had gone from critical to total failure and he said there was nothing he could do. I asked him to visit us one last time. As I stroked Willow’s head I noticed that it was wet from my tears. My final words to her were “Goodbye, my queen. I love you.’”
Willow’s body was carried out of the house wrapped in her pink blanket.
‘The days that followed were horrendous. I cried a river, but deep, deep down I knew I had done the right thing. To see her staggering was probably harder than her passing. That wasn’t the Willow I knew and loved, and that wasn’t the Willow she wanted to be.’
It was 5 January 2010 when Willow was assisted over. That day it began to snow, and it snowed and snowed until Gloucestershire was covered in a glorious gleaming blanket of purity, as if the Earth were being bathed in a magical glow ready for new life.
When Jane contacted me a few weeks later, she was understandably still grieving. I connected with Willow and without prompting she immediately started to express herself in the same manner as before, except that her energy felt stronger and somehow more complete. She wanted to talk about Jane:
‘She’s a worrier. She can’t help it. She worries about everything. My job was to calm her down and remind her how special she was. I did my job well. I can say this now I am on the other side of the physical reality.
She is not supported enough by her husband. He doesn’t understand how hard it is to juggle so many things – to divide the energy in so many different ways. He will one day fully comprehend.
I am well and relaxed – no longer in pain lower down. My kidneys were in dire condition, especially my left – very sore, hopeless really. Jason is a kind man; he came to end my days. It was the right time. I was ready to go. I was very weak and could hardly walk. That was no kind of life for me.’
When I saw Willow in my mind’s eye she was glowing with vitality, with lustrous fur. She continued with life advice for Jane:
‘Tell Jane to slow down. She is working too hard and needs to give herself more time to unwind and play, to really enjoy herself. I want to see her laugh again. To smile and feel a lightness in her heart. To dance around the garden naked! To feel her full divine feminine essence. To harness her female power. I was always trying to remind her of the power she had, but I grew tired. Now I am at full strength again I will be more direct with my message.’
I was writing the message down and would type up every last word.
Willow continued, addressing Jane directly:
‘Baby girl, stop trying to please everyone else and put yourself first. They will show you more love and respect if you do. Follow my example – didn’t I always put myself first? Didn’t I always draw others to me? This is not a selfish act, it is a self-ish act, putting the focus on your self – your soul being, physical being and emotional being. You know I care for you and say this with love in my heart, because our hearts are entwined. You have always done what’s right for me; now I am trying to do what’s right for you – will you let me? Will you listen?’
I was sure Jane would listen.
Jane had wanted to know whether Willow had passed over OK and who was taking care of her now. I put these questions to Willow.
‘I was gone in an instant,’ she replied, ‘because I was ready to let go. It was what I wanted. And I take care of myself, because I am Willow. And a cat.’
Jane had asked whether she was ready to go.
‘Yes, very ready. I urged you to let me go and you listened to my message. You were brave. And I am grateful.’
Jane had another cat called Blue who was the same age as Willow and had arrived on the same day. Although from a different litter, she had been like a sister to her. She also had health concerns now. Jane had asked whether Willow could tell her if Blue was OK.
Willow answered, ‘Blue is getting tired. She has to rest more, but she is content for now. You don’t need to worry about her. Just let her be, enjoying her life. She knows I am close. I have not left her, or you. You may feel my essence close by. Kisses. Head rubs.’
Jane’s last question was: ‘I felt Willow was my soul mate and wonder if she will ever come back to me?’
‘Yes, we are soul mates,’ Willow replied. ‘Always connected. But I don’t feel I want to come back as another body. I feel one lifetime together was perfect and irreplaceable and I was very happy with that physical body. I will wait until we are both back together and then we can reincarnate together. I hope that is OK with you.’
Later Jane wrote to me: ‘I know those messages were from Willow because I always called her “baby girl” and in her message that’s what she called me. Thank you.’
Blue stayed by Jane’s side for another 12 months, just as Willow had done.
‘That old ailing cat healed me through every anniversary,’ she said.
The weekend before Blue passed over, Derek, a fulfilment manager of an online optical company, thought he saw Willow jump off Jane’s lap. He described her as ‘like a bright light, but the essence was Willow’.
Then the day before Blue died, Jane’s sister was convinced she had seen Willow walking into Jane and Derek’s bedroom.
Jane told me, ‘To me, this was her final duty: Willow came back to help Blue across.’
It was reassuring to know that Willow had come to accompany Blue to the other side. It was also humbling to hear Willow giving life advice to Jane. If an animal is able to know so much about other animals, and people, both in their physical body and as souls who passed over many years earlier, it is exciting to think how much they could know about other areas of life, death and beyond.
In the next chapter I’d like to share with you how Morgan suddenly fell ill and how I begged him to stay with me a while longer. We will also look at the importance of palliative care and whether animals can decide whether to stay or go.