Australian Persian Cat, a Tuxedo Kitty then a Tiger Striped Feline & Pet Cat is Coming back! Pet Heaven and Reincarnation is real!!

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I don't really remember Natelle (the cream persian) very well as I was a toddler when she was one of the family cats. My mum was a registered breeder and she was one of our show cats. All I know is that I loved all the cats and became very attached. Unfortunately my mum got a job and was no longer able to care for the persians in the way which they needed - daily grooming etc, and I was too young to do it. She was forced to give up all the persians to another breeder. I know that she went to a good home, but that's all.

I remember Kitty very well though. Another "family" cat, who quickly became my favourite and I his favourite. He would always choose me to sit with, I would sneak him into my bed at night and I even used to throw parties for him. He was very vocal, friendly, a lovely cat all around....except every once in a while he would go wild. He would look at me in a certain way and I would know I was about to get pounced on. I would try to run to no avail, he would catch me and beat me up. Though it was more funny than it was painful. The thing is, he would only ever do this to me...... exactly the same as Baxter (brown tabby) would only ever do the exact same thing to me. Both Kitty and Baxter loved me, and I them, but I would just be minding my own business when suddenly an angry ball of fur would be wrapped around my leg - only ever me! Hmmmmm.

I had a reading with Brent when Baxter passed who told me Baxter was his third incarnation with me. She confirmed I had a cream persian when I was about 3 (Natelle), then a few years later a black alley cat and the word "England" was associated with him. I knew straight away that it was Kitty. We had booked a family holiday to England and, about 3 days before we were due to fly out, Kitty got sick. I took him to the vet who told me he had kidney failure. They put him on a drip for a few days to flush the kidneys and on a special diet. I didn't want to go on holidays with him sick, but I had to. My brother, who was older, had chosen not to go to England so therefore was able to stay home and look after him. I rang as often as I could to check on him and each night sent positive thoughts his way. He survived several more years in good health and died at around 18 years old. I remember saying goodnight to him on his last night (he had taken up residence in the laundry and didn't want to be anywhere else). I sat up at 4am that morning just knowing he had passed. The only thought in my head was "KITTY!!!!!!!" A few hours later I heard my dad get up and go into the laundry. I then heard him go downstairs and I heard the "clink" of the shovel and I knew I was right. I lay in bed crying for hours. He was an all round brilliant cat, wonderful friend, great comfort, just the best.

How like Kitty to come back to me as Baxter years later! 

It's has been 2 and a half months since I lost Baxter. The light of my life, my shining star. He was very wild when I first got him, having been dumped at about 1 week old and hand raised by the lady who found him. She was a dog person and was used to rough-housing with animals, therefore he had been handled more roughly than a kitten should have.

With time he learned to trust me and be gentler. Oh the fun we had, chasing each other, playing tunnels, playing with his toys together. He would always run to me when he heard me get up in the morning, watch me through the window when I would pull up in the driveway after work, run to the side window to watch me come up the stairs then jump up on the speaker next to the door to greet me as I came through the door. He would run to me when scared, give me a "high five" every morning. My beautiful, wonderful, handsome boy.

I treasured him so much and was always so protective of him. Something in my soul must have told me he was fragile, so paranoid was I that I felt the need to contantly check on him. I sometimes thought his breathing sounded slightly laboured and would ask the vet to check it, always to be told he seemed fine. 

He was 3 years, 7 months when I noticed he wasn't eating his dinner and was drinking more. Off to the vet we went for some blood tests. I had a horrible sinking feeling. Tragic news the following day, he is in renal failure. But he is so young and I'm very careful that my cats don't get near anything toxic! 

Back to the vet to be on a drip for 4 days to try to flush the kidneys. I visited him several times each day he was there. He was stressed. Still I hoped that the drip could do some good. Worse news on the 3rd day - his blood cretanine levels haven't changed, it's final stages kidney failure. 

How did I miss it? I saw no signs! I was always so careful, what happened??? Racked with guilt, if only this, if only that, if only if only if only. I took him home after the 4th day of IV fluids with the news he will last maybe days or maybe weeks, no longer. I was heartbroken.

Still, I kept hoping some miracle would happen. I rushed out and bought various types of food and left offerings everywhere with plenty of water. He ate for a few days, my heart leapt. But of course it didn't last. 

The day came when I knew it was not right to continue to allow him to go on. He was vomiting bile and not eating, trying to go to the toilet with no luck. Oh my beautiful boy, why is this happening? 

I made the call to the vet, requesting a house call. I wasn't going to bag him up to be killed in a strange place by people he didn't know. He was going to go at home with me. I spent the last few hours with him talking to him, telling him over and over again how much I love him. Finally I heard the front door, signalling the vets arrival. 

I panicked and begged Baxter to please please suddenly get up and run around, miraculously cured so I could sent them away again, please please don't leave me Baxter, oh Baxter don't go. He just opened his eyes a little as if to say "mum, I'm so sick" and closed them again. I held him while he went. Devestated doesn't even come close to describing how I felt. I wanted to go with him.

I was drowning in an ocean of despair, yelling at God how dare he take him from me, barely able to function at all. 2 days later I walked out my front door to be greeted with the sight of a truck with a picture of a rainbow on it. What on Earth is that truck doing there?? 

I looked up the company, it was an earthmoving company from a suburb roughly 1 hours drive away. Noone around here was doing earthmoving. Baxter, did you just send me a sign that you are ok? Never seen that truck around before, haven't seen it here since. Thank you my sweet boy.

I had a reading with Brent, who looked inside Baxter's body and found he had congenital problems, present from birth, which caused the kidney failure. He has been with me before and will be with me again!!! My sweetheart will be back. I told him in those last few hours that he was welcome back, that the door was always open for him here.

Now, instead of despair I feel a glimmer of hope, excitement and eager anticipation which grows ever brighter with each day that passes, for each day
I come closer to him and we can continue our life together. 

I look forward to the day I pick him up, look into his eyes and say "hello my old friend". Until that day Baxter, I want to say thank you for the times we have shared, I look forward to sharing more with you and know that I love you always and forever.