A few years ago I obtained an amazing listing that any Realtor would die to get their hands on! They had met with nearly every Realtor in town and weirdly decided that they liked me. (Not sure now if this is a compliment.) We had a great first meeting. We toured the home, had a great conversation that lasted for a couple of hours. Somehow, we ended up talking about how much we loved our pets. So I sat there and listened to the owner talk about her beloved cats. Not a big deal, but it hadn’t gotten weird yet. We ended the meeting on a great note and agreed to meet the next week to take pictures of the home.
The week dragged on. I was so excited to get back out there and take pictures of the gorgeous home. I was going to be the envy of every Realtor in town. Upon entry, we immediately started talking again and of course the chatter began about the owner’s cats. She has one at her other house and her almost human like cat/child, “MuMu” had just passed away.
She was able to communicate through a choked voice, tears and puffed out bottom lip that MuMu was her son, her pride and joy and the reason she lived. She didn’t think she could go on. And at this moment, she had to sit down, the grief was overwhelming. Which meant, I had to sit down, put my hand awkwardly on her hand and tell it would be okay. The conversation that came next is one I’ve never had with anyone.
Me: “Please don’t be sad. I’m a firm believer that our pets go to heaven. He’s in a better place now.”
Her: “I know. I just want him here.” She choked out.
Me: “Well…(at loss for words) maybe you can get another cat.”
Her: “Are you kidding? MuMu is coming back. I can’t get another cat.” She beligerantly yelled at me like I was an idiot.
Me: “Umm…what? What do you mean? Like Pet Sematary?” (That’s how it’s spelled in the movie.)
Her: “What? Well…we buried him in the pet cemetary close to our home outside of town.”
Me: “Oh yeah. That’s the one they’re going to move and make room for a new subdivision.” (Big mistake.)
Her: “WHAT???” she screamed and started wailing, crying and asking me to tell her that’s not true.
Me: “W…w…w…well, maybe it’s not true. I…I..I’m not totally sure.”
Her: “Well I hope not! He said he was trying be happy where he was. If we move him, he’ll just freak out even more!
Me: “Uhhh…what do you mean, ‘he said’ and ‘he’s coming back’?” (I was really starting to think I would have to call the authorities.)
Her: “I just got back from Michigan for the second time. I went to talk with a pet psychic. I needed to speak with MuMu. He can’t live without me.”
Me: (Thinking to myself…yeah, he’s dead. He definitely can’t live. What the heck is this about?)
Her: “The pet psychic couldn’t find his spirit at first because alot of pets were trying to come through and talk to her. (Imagine me with a “is this a joke?” face.) But then…then…my MuMu came through. He told the pet psychic that he was scared where he was and that he needed time to adjust. He needed exactly a year. When it’s been a year since MuMu’s death, I should go to the pound and look for a cat that looks like MuMu (black and white) or has red hair. Then he’ll be reincarnated within the cat I choose and my MuMu will come back to me. He’ll come back!” And she started to sob again.
Me: (Not believing this was even a real conversation.) “Well, there ya’ go! Proof positive all will be well. Let me just get these last few pictures done.” I got up slowly to take the rest of the photos and mainly to get away from the madness.
So she layed her head on the table, exhausted from the sobbing and pain that she had to wait a year for her cat to be reincarnated. I wandered around taking photos in surreal silence, only interrupted by an occasional murmur that whispered sadly, “Mumu.”
I had so many questions.
How does a cat communicate with a pet psychic? Series of foot taps? Tail swings? Yowling once for yes and twice for no? If I can’t tell if my cat is constipated or hungry in the real world, how can a dead cat communicate reincarnation to a live human? Then I found out she spent about five grand on the whole ordeal. Suddenly…I think my cats are making more sense and if any of you doubt it, I’ll prove it to you, for a small fee.
What do you think you’re cat is saying to you?
Psychic: “See..he’s clearly thinking he needs more playtime from you in order to be happy.”
Cat: “I need to poop.”