This last week Makia, my 15-year-old cat, died and then came back to life. She had a hypoglycemic episode that started with projectile vomiting and head seizures, and then she passed out and defecated on me. In the 30 minutes it took me to get her to the veterinarian I did everything I knew to do in such situations. I smeared her gums with maple syrup, rubbed her ears (which helps bring beings out of shock), prayed to a higher power, and prepared Makia for death by saying things like, “The Buddha will be in heaven. You love the Buddha. We can still talk from there. You will see Maia your old doggie sister and you will feel a great amount a peace. It is a wonderful feeling in heaven.” This I mixed with, “Hold on Makia. Stay with me. You have to experience our new cat garden and the butterflies it will attract. Stay in your body.”
Makia spoke little at first and when she did it was mostly about fear, having a headache, and feeling sick. I thought to myself, “I speak to dead people and animals. I have friends on the other side. I need a favor!” Then I called out, “Please help us.” I began to chant positive statements of health—”My body is alive and well-balanced”—and the names of ancient healing symbols.
Immediately after I called for help, Makia saw angels, felt a warm energy when I imagined my hands healing her, and at one point was being petted by my grandfather on the other side. She told me she saw a light and felt her spirit traveling away from her body and wondered if she should go with my grandfather.
“Mom, I’m dying,” she said, as her listless body draped over my lap and her eyes dimmed and drifted to cross-eyed. “I don’t want to die.” It is an image I will never forget and it haunts me at times when I close my eyes. “She’s dead,” I thought, and shook her with no response. “Makia come back to your body,” I called, stroking her ears and trying to watch her eyes while I drove. Then her eyes shifted a little and looked at me. “I don’t feel well,” she offered.
It’s a hard thing to stay calm in an emergency, drive through traffic, prepare a loved one to cross over, and keep them hanging on at the same time. I thought how lucky I am to hear her and to know what her experience is. I felt amazed and calmed that my prayers where answered and that help on the other side came immediately. Whether she lived or died, I was comforted by the fact she had someone’s arms to fall into. What do other pet owners do in such situations? I know. Some panic and some have blind faith.
My situation with Makia made me realize that even during our greatest trauma and our most frightening moments, all we need to do is ask for help. The angels were not there until I called them. I am sure my grandfather once met Makia when he was alive but I don’t remember when. He was allergic to cats but I wasn’t surprised he came for her. I have heard stories over and over again about people in heaven who love humans on earth coming for their pets when they cross over. They do it because they love us.
Makia now says, “I have seen heaven in a different way. When you are first there it is a feeling of being lost and found at the same time. I am happy I get to see my butterfly / cat garden here on earth. I want to thank my doctors for giving me the magic medicine water (intravenous fluids) and I want thank my mom for calling in help when I could not do so. I have learned we are never alone.”