On August 31, as I was saying good-bye to the animals to leave for my afternoon-evening work session from 1:30-9 p.m., Joey, my oldest cat, came into the kitchen, meowed painfully, and lay down pleading to me not to go to work because, he said, “Mom, I am dying.” I stayed with him and his pain was almost too much for me to bear. He could not rest and didn’t want to be petted, except for stroking of his head and ears.

Laura Stinchfield

I have had Joey for 18 years, since my last year in college. We lived on a lake when I brought him home. Joey would go canoeing with us. That year, I studied abnormal psychology and became a reiki master. That year, my boyfriend took Joey, our cat Julliett, and my dog lala on a three-mile hike around the golf course. He lost Joey and didn’t realize it until I got home and asked where he was. My boyfriend told me he last saw Joey at hole nine. Five hours after the sighting I found Joey at hole nine.

“I knew you would come for me,” I heard him say as he pranced out of the brushes to greet me.

Joey traveled cross-country with me four times, escaped the jaws of a coyote, became friends with a bobcat, and has witnessed me grow as a woman and an animal communicator. He has buried seven other animals with me — two dogs, one cat, two bunnies, and two pigs.

On September 1, 2011, with my two cats Makia and Serafina, my Aussie Stormy, my friend Jim, and our old friend and veterinarian Dr. Otto by his side, Joey took his last breaths in the back of my car.

My animal family and I have had moments of deep sadness, peace, and a surrendering to what is. Joey’s passing is a huge loss. I don’t believe I have ever written an article without Joey curled up on my left side. Now, with tears in my eyes and a great pain in my heart, I ask Joey, what do you want to say?

“I want everyone to know that when their animal is dying to tell them to fly as high as you can. This helped me a great deal because now I am in such a beautiful place in heaven. It is green like summers in New York. There are butterflies and lizards and deer and catnip fields. Here I lie with my mom and my family in our happiest times. I feel connected to them still and I do not feel loneliness. I feel only a sweet happiness. Right before I died I saw Lala and Juliette running for me, and I am still with them here. We are staying in heaven taking turns going back to Mom. We are sending her energy and figuring out how to increase her abundance and decrease her sorrow. The deep experiences of the suffering of animals and their people that run through her body create an undercurrent of sadness that stops the flow of abundance. We are learning how to be compassionate without the feeling of a torn heart. We are learning how to teach Mom this lesson so she can free herself from the pain of others.

“Maia was sad here in heaven because she had much to learn. That is why her spirit is back with Mom. I have lived many lives with Mom. I am in a good place. When she meditates, I lie with her. When she is feeding the animals, I am there too. I am in the car when she is driving, sitting in her lap and looking out the window. I am found not outside in the stars but deep within her heart. I will always be here for her. We are bound together. We are each others’ teachers, and now it is my turn to help her heal. To all those that miss their loved ones in heaven: speak to them, pray to them. This helps us grow and gives up light. I am not gone. I am still here.”


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