“Love knows no season, has no bounds; in its presence miracles are found.”
Harold sitting under a table at home. Life is different for him since Josh passed away.
Josh was the first person who greeted us when we moved into our new house. This young high school freshman just loved animals and he had heard through the grapevine that we had a lot of animals. He became our “go-to” pet sitter that first week.
Josh was a dedicated pet rescuer and would often join me at PETCO adoption events. One Saturday, he completely fell in love with a big black and white cat named Harold. He brought him home that day and declared to his parents that keeping that cat was his “power-play” of the year. (Once a year, his parents gave him and his brother permission to override a parental veto, and I later learned from his mother that over the years the brothers had learned to choose wisely. Only the most important things to them made the grade.)
Harold’s disposition for anyone but Josh left much to be desired. He would not allow any familiarity – no “cute kitty” stuff for him! But Josh loved that cat, and the feeling was mutual. Happy, purring and agreeable, Harold soon came to know Josh’s schedule and followed him to the door each day when Josh left for school. Harold knew to wait for him to come home for lunch and after school too. He would hear Josh’s car coming down the street, or sense when he was near and wait by the window for Josh to pull into the driveway. Josh said he hoped he would find a spouse someday that he loved as much as he loved his cat. We all laughed and agreed with him.
Harold saw Josh leave for the last time on January 25, 2004 – never again to appear at the window to play tapping games with him, never again to cuddle him in the night. For weeks after that I don’t know who took care of Harold. Josh’s parents and brother were in shock. We all were. His mother told me she doesn’t remember much of the month or so that followed Josh’s death.
Harold mourned too. He was lost…waiting at doors, looking out windows, barely eating, obviously grieving. Josh’s mother, Charlotte, told me that she would find Harold in Josh’s bedroom, sitting on the bed, looking at his wall of pictures. (I went online and found out that cats really are able to discern photographs, television and even mirror images).
Charlotte said both Harold and she co-existed in the same house but obviously in different worlds. Then slowly it became noticeable that when Charlotte was having a bad time, when despair took over her will to go on, this strange, normally unlovable cat would jump on her lap and purr and nestle a little. Eventually, she told me, Harold would lick the tears away.
Very slowly, Harold became Charlotte’s comforter. Whether she was crying in the bathtub or housecleaning; no matter what she was doing while crying, Harold would rub against her, demanding attention, patting her face, rubbing against her legs. I know that animal behaviorists probably won’t go along with my theory that cats can comfort… but they don’t know Harold.
I saw Charlotte this last Christmas. We moved away shortly after Josh was killed. We had found another house nearby that fit our lifestyle better and besides the old neighborhood just became too incredibly sad with memories, but I stayed in touch with Charlotte and her husband. She told me that she wondered if other parents had “leftover pets.” She said she hoped that they get as much comfort from them as she does from Harold. We both firmly believe that a little part of our sweet, loving Josh is guiding Harold, comforting Charlotte when she needs it, just as Josh always sensed his mother’s moods.
Charlotte said that she hopes Harold lives many, many more years, but if his time is over before hers, she plans on cremating him and lovingly burying him on the right side of Josh’s monument, right under the etching the family had put there – of a black and white cat, looking adoringly at the person he loved most.
On this the fifth anniversary of Josh leaving us, I still marvel and celebrate the cat angel he left in his place. Harold: may you live long and prosper.
I spent this last weekend at a cat sanctuary near where I live. So many wonderful cats looking for home. Please, please if at all possible, adopt a homeless cat today. Perhaps you will find your very own cat angel too.