Sometimes it’s seems everyone has a tragic pet story they want to tell you. This is especially true if you have chickens. I promise this isn’t that sort of story. This one has a happy ending, and a point. But if you really hate hearing people’s stories about their pets, then I’ll see you back in the next post. Because what follows is the story of my Himalayan cat, Luna. How she got lost in the woods, and how she was found. Also, how the experience taught me to never lose hope. Miracles can happen, but they are more likely to occur if we can stay open to them.
Many times, this occurs after we have completely let go of wanting the hoped for outcome.
If you’re familiar with the Sedona Method, or one of the other methods inspired by Lester Levinson, you will understand what I mean by letting go. For me, it’s imagining I’m a super hero standing on top of a tall building. And then I just allow myself to fall, with no fear. And knowing everything is going to be okay. When I release into this visualization, I realize that I’m not actually falling that fast. I can control the speed, or even stop or reverse it if I want to.
Two Cats in Need of a Good Home
Back in the early 00’s, my now husband and I were living in a small one bedroom condo in Seattle. Just before Thanksgiving, I was browsing a website called PetFinder. Many of my pets have been found here, and I think it’s a site my husband wishes he could block sometimes when it seems like our clan has grown too large, and I want to rescue just one more homeless cat.
On this occasion, I typed in the search term, Himalayan, because that’s what our male cat was. Usually when I search for Himalayan’s they are senior cats. But this search brought of a photo of two sisters. And they were only 2 years old. They lived at a shelter on the same island our friends lived on.
When my husband got home, I showed him the picture. “I guess we could get two more cats,” he said, hesitantly. “But next weekend is Thanksgiving. So we’ll have to wait.”
I’m guessing he was partially so agreeable because there wasn’t much chance two young, beautiful, purebred cats would still be at the shelter in another week.
He was Wrong, and We Found Out Why
Morgaine and Luna, that’s what we named them, belonged to someone who was a Navy pilot. Whenever they went on missions, they boarded the two cats. Eventually, we were told, the owner of the kennel told them they should find them a better home. And that’s how they ended up at the shelter.
One of the shelter workers brought out Morgaine, the smaller of the two, and let me hold her. I could tell she was really scared, and wanted to get away. They were both really frightened, shy cats, but we decided to adopt them anyway. I still remember standing there, watching the worker trying to catch Luna to put her in the carrier, and wondering what we had gotten ourselves into. She was a wild cat!
Fast Forward 10 Years
Oddly enough, we eventually moved to the island our cats came from. It took us a long time to settle the two cats who had been left in a kennel so often in their youth. Even ten years later, they still didn’t like to be picked up. But they regularly came to us for pets, cuddle time, and playing with their feather.
Our house is in the middle of a forest. We regularly see owls and bald eagles. And occasionally raccoons and coyotes. Outdoors is no place for house cats. Generally, our cats never showed an interest in going outside. They were happy watching the birds at the feeder, and napping in sunspots.
Which is why I was surprised, when my husband woke me one July morning just before he left for work. “I found Morgaine sitting on the front porch,” he said. “But I can’t find Luna. The back door was left ajar. I think she might have followed Morgaine out.”
Luna Goes Missing, set to the Tune of Lost in the Woods
If you have ever lost a pet, you know the frantic searching we go through, and the imagining of all sorts of unpleasant outcomes our mind creates for us as we are calling for our pet, and there is no response. It is hard in those times to never lose hope.
Here is Luna’s story:
I think I searched for hours. First in the house, because Luna was the scarier one. She generally spent most of her days under my bed. “She would never go outside”, I thought. I called my husband. “Never lose hope,” he reminded me. “I’m sure you’ll find her.”
After I searched the house from top to bottom, I started looking out side. I called the vet. “She would most likely stay near the house,” they assured me.
“That’s good”, I thought. Our forest is thick with salal and huckleberry for her to hide under. And who has a cat that will come when you call them?
By 11:00, my “never lose hope” attitude was fading. I’d been in the forest for several hours calling her name. And crying. In the opening below our house, two great horned owls sat side by side in one of the cedars. I stopped and asked them, “Have you seen my cat?” I hoped they hadn’t.
I Called a Psychic for Help
At the time, my mom and I had recently read a book by Amelia Kinkade, Straight from the Horses Mouth. She’s animal intuitive, who helps find missing pets. In the forward of her book, she tells the story of how she helped Dr. Bernie Siegel never lose hope, and find his lost cat. So I started looking on the internet for a psychic who could help me.
The woman I found was local to the Seattle area, but when she called me back she told me, “I’ve never found a cat alive on your island. There are too many wild animals. But I’ll try. Never lose hope.”
Imagine hearing that! My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach. But it got worse.
A Few Hours Later, She Called Me Back
“I’ve talked to your cat,” she said. “And she told me what happened.” The psychic proceeded to tell me how Luna told her that she did indeed followed Morgaine out the back door. She was still close to the house, and just wanted to get back inside. And she was scared.
The psychic also told me she was standing between a light colored car and something with a big wheel. She thought it was a wheelbarrow. I stopped her there. “We don’t have a white car,” I told her. “And our wheelbarrow is under the porch stairs.”
“I didn’t say white,” she replied. “I said light. And there is something with a big wheel.” She then continued her story, but never stopped insisting that Luna was between a light colored car and a wheelbarrow. I continued to interrupt her saying there wasn’t a wheelbarrow behind the car. She was growing exasperated with me. “Luna said something grabbed her from behind. It was a coyote.” she finished.
I listened in shock as she went on to tell me that it was better to be snatched by a coyote, because they snap the necks of their prey right away. Owls play with their food.
My brain wasn’t registering all this. “Is she still alive?” I asked.
“No, she’s not. I’m sorry.” And then she hung up. So much for trying so hard to never lose hope. My cat was dead. Having a psychic tell me it was instant didn’t help one bit.
What I Saw Out the Window Shocked Me
I stood up and looked out the bedroom window to the driveway below. Parked at an angle was my mother’s silver Saturn. And upside down in the ditch behind was a wheelbarrow. The late afternoon sun that filtered through the trees reflected on the metal of it’s big wheel.
I stopped looking for Luna.
That Friday night was warm, and all the stars were out. I stood on the porch thinking about the song, “Somewhere out there,” and wondering where Luna was, or what was left of her. At the end of the driveway, those owls, maybe the same ones I’d talked to earlier in the day, were circling the forest, and making a lot of noise. “Luna would be so scared,” I remember thinking. “I’m glad she’s on the other side now where nothing can hurt her.”
The weekend came. I spent most of it in my room, reading, and crying over Luna. Morgaine, her sister slept snuggled next to me for two nights. Something she never did. She was grieving too.
My Son Never Lost Hope that We Would Find Luna Alive
On Sunday morning, my son, Sebastian, came running into my bedroom. “We found Luna!” he shouted. “Daddy needs you to come and get her.” My husband was standing out near the end of our driveway about 300 feet from out house. He pointed back into the woods, “We were moving the trash cans and Sebastian said to me, ‘What’s that white thing?’”
I looked where he was pointing. Next to a fallen log was something white and furry. Only Luna is a brown cat. I didn’t hesitate, but I moved cautiously so as not to startle whatever it was. When I got closer, I saw it was indeed Luna, however the hair on her back was much, much lighter.
There would only be one chance to get her. I inched closer, and then I lunged, grabbing her by the scruff of the neck. After carrying her all the way up to the bedroom, I set her down, and watched as she scurried under the bed. She came out briefly for food and water, but she spent 3 days under there, and wouldn’t let any of us get close. She only wanted affection from her sister. But Morgaine, who had be so distraught that she had slept cuddled at my side for two nights, hissed as this strange pale cat under the bed.
It Took a While for Luna to Return to Normal
Luna’s fur eventually returned to brown. My vet told me he had never heard of fur changing color before, although we know people’s hair sometimes turns white or grey from shock, such as a death of a close family member. Of course, their office also told me Luna wouldn’t stray far from the house.
We never did figure out what happened to her out there. Did something actually try to grab her? Maybe. That would explain why a cat who had never been out of the house would be found so deep in the forest. And why the fur on her back changed to white.
I’m happy to say, that was her last adventure. Luna lived 7 more years before she eventually died from old age at 12. She lost her sight, but she navigated herself around the house with such grace, you would never know she was blind unless you watched her carefully. And Morgaine eventually forgave her.
Some Things in Life Just Can’t be Explained
I told you, my tragic pet story had a happy ending, if not a logical one.
Thankfully the psychic was wrong, but she was also right. There was a wheelbarrow behind a light colored car. But my cat was alive.
I have since heard that many psychic won’t look for lost pets. Firstly, because more often than not, the pet is dead. But in addition, it’s difficult for them to determine whether or not the pet is dead or alive, since they believe they can talk to them either way. And sometimes when a pet is killed instantly, they don’t know at first they are dead. Therefore, after my experience, I believe some psychics can communicate with pets, and probably people too. Because I insisted to her there was no wheelbarrow, but she held to her story. And she was right.
Letting Go of Attachments is What We are Here to Do
This is what I believe anyway. So do the Buddhists. Some attachments are more difficult to let go of. For example, after I wrote my first post, Why Did I Wait so Long to Start a Blog?, we had to move my mother to a nursing home. In March of 2020 we were told my mother contracted Covid-19. Three times I received phone calls saying she wasn’t going to make it. I felt like I didn’t want to hold her here if she was ready to go. After recovering, she was locked in what seemed a never ending quarantine. But I still gave up hope what one day I would be able to hug her, and she would be able to hold her dog again.
Another example, I’m starting a new blog. Some people say, “It’s too late. No one is reading blogs anymore.” I’m letting go of the fear that I will never be successful. I will write it anyway.
So go ahead. Make your plans. Set your goals. Then release caring about the outcome. Do it the best you can. Never lose hope.
When we are facing new struggles in life, it’s helpful to look back at times in our lives when we had lost all hope, and then a miracle happened. I know, these times are rare. But what I have found is the more we believe they can occur, the more miracles happen. The thing that we thought was completely hopeless, or lost, appears in our life again. Just like my cat Luna who never had another adventure like that one and lived to the age of 14.