Shao Maur's Gift
A Beloved Cat Goes Home as a Bright Spark of God
By TS
Shao Maur was pretty old in cat years. She had adopted us the first year we were married and had seen us through three houses, several job changes, four other cats, three parakeets, and a lovebird.
Now in her dotage, Shao Maur was still regal, although so thin she seemed to be only a pair of large eyes in a bony frame.
Shao Maur had always held herself to a very high standard of cat behavior. In her book it was poor cat etiquette indeed to miss the litter box. She viewed with great disdain our other cats' occasional accidents. So when she came into the laundry room one Saturday morning and looked directly into my eyes as she deliberately wet on a pile of laundry, I knew something was wrong.
"I need your help," she was saying in her catlike way.
I gently picked up that fragile, ancient lady and in a shaking voice called out to my husband. He understood immediately what we had to do. We sat together on the sofa, stroking Shao Maur, holding each other, crying, and remembering all the wonderful years she shared with us.
And then it was time to go.
I put Shao Maur in the car and set off. The entire trip to the veterinarian, I sang HU, a love song to God, silently reassuring our dear companion that I would be with her no matter what.
The news was bad. Shao Maur's kidneys were shutting down.
"Would you like to stay with her when I put her to sleep?" asked the doctor.
"Oh yes. I want to be here," I replied.
After the injection, Shao Maur lay quietly on the table as I gently rubbed her ears and softly sang HU.
Suddenly, there was an amazing flash of golden light! I gasped softly in wonder at the beauty of it. Singing HU, the love song to God, had allowed me to witness her passing.
"She's gone," I said to the veterinarian. Surprised, he checked her pulse and looked quizzically back at me.
"You're right," he replied, mystified at how I could know.
As I drove home alone, I was still weeping, but my tears were tears of joy. Shao Maur had given me one last precious gift—to see her as Soul—Soul going home to God.
Excerpted from the 2006 Eckankar Journal, copyright © 2005 ECKANKAR. All rights reserved.
