Death is nothing to be concerned over. When death comes, it always makes some excuse for its appearance and then removes its figure of choice. One door closes, another opens. Whether you are reading the words of Jesus Christ, Sri Ramakrishna, Wiccan teachings, Vedanta teachings, or any other selections, death is discussed in some manner.
What exactly do we learn from the death of another? Let us examine our pet companions for example. Many readers who have read my writings may recall the story I wrote about my beloved cat companion, Wiz. That story was published as “Wiz and the Fairy” in D. J. Conway’s book, The Mysterious Magickal Cat (1998). I have written elsewhere of Wiz. He had a knack for attracting the fairy folk, and he loved to stand on his hind feet and dance with them, and it did not matter to him or them who was watching them dance together! Sometimes they rode on the end of Wiz’s tail or his ears or his back!
Wiz, a beautifully-marked male cat of Abyssinian-Siamese mixture, was born at Roswell, New Mexico. A constant companion while I was writing, usually sitting on my lap or the arm rest, he always seem part of whatever I was creating. Wiz was a blessing of love.
A fast-acting cancer caught up with Wiz, and within three weeks he was dead. Only eight years old, but his time came early. He died on February 12, 2004.
Wiz remained his old likeable self, keeping the other cats in line, and always a bundle of affection to the end. The last two days he lay in the window love seat and watched life go by outdoors, content as only cats can be content that they had a good run of it and knew the end was coming.
The last day of his life was spent listening to jazz music, classical music, the music of Antonio Carlos Jobim, and The Beach Boys singing “Kokomo.” His feet moved to Jobim’s “Wave” and The Beach Boys’ “Kokomo,” towards the end, a final dance step that only he could do as he lay dying.
Wiz passed listening to “Kokomo,” a sweet cat smile left behind on his face, already gone on his walkabout on an endless beach where the weather is always perfect, pleasant, and the breeze is gentle and soft. I will join him there someday and embrace my loved ones who passed before me. I will look upon the mountains and smile, and we will all be together again.
He did not fight death but went gently into the night because cats know reincarnation is real. Do the best you can and remember what comes around comes around again in a different form.
I sense his presence now. He has not gone away, just stepped into another dimension, another room. He comes when my love reaches out to him.
Wiz reminds me there are many miles to go and many bridges to cross before I rest. Somehow, I know without question the enchanted, loving cat that was Wiz will always be close at hand, and when I pass, he will be there purring and happy to see me. That is the way of it.
Lee Prosser is Ghostvillage.com’s book reviewer and a regular contributor.