I’ve been racking my brains out trying to figure out how I could be of service to anyone who happens upon this blog AND acknowledge and share about how there just “ain’t nuttin” quite like black cat love–mostly because our 18 year old Queen Bee black cat went to the big beyond yesterday. And she went exactly as she wanted to go in our home with me there helping her to birth her soul from this world to the next.

The way that I love animals is probably something that if I shared more about it, I could help other people either deepen the love and understanding that they already have with animals or at least help someone who does not “get” animals to become curious. But to tell you the truth, I have gotten so tired of how people that don’t get animals interpret/judge/believe/see those of us that do get animals that I just don’t have the patience to deal with their ignorance. Leave that to someone else better equipped with patience and steadfastness than me.

So this blog is for those of you who get it about critters. And if you at least get it about some kind of a critter — and don’t particularly care for cats of any kind — well, then, I invite you to bring in that awareness and fondness for the animal that you do so that I can help you to widen your horizons about cats and black cats in particular.

It’s been my experience that domestic cats are truly the mini-mini-mini watered down version of the bigger cats like Leopards and Lions and Cougars and maybe even Tigers in a few instances. Our black cat Rosie, was definitely a leopard. She was smart as hell too in figuring out how to do things like capturing a milar floating balloon after one birthday party and carrying it around the house by it’s string only to harness it steady by dragging it under the table. She did the same thing 2-3 times because I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

I also think Rosie figured out a long time ago that some humans know how to “receive” information from animals in pictures or words or a “knowing” but more often than not, many humans had no idea they could. She didn’t care, she’d just “send” to them anyway. As luck would have it, we tend to bring people into our homes that are the animal-communicating type. Rosie was the kind of cat who would get things done, and in a very subtle way. I can’t tell you the number of times I’d find myself in the kitchen dishing up some tiny little tasty meat dish to put down for her–but at a time that I usually didn’t feed her—and with something that wasn’t her food–only to look down and see Rosie blinking up at me with her big yellow eyes. I had received her message and was carrying out her plan.

A family member who is very close to me and will remain anonymous, said in regards to Rosie that “that there was a piece of heaven” and admitted to having been lulled into Rosie’s desires one time when he was cat-sitting, by pulling a guitar of the wall and proceeding to sing her songs. I’m sure she blinked her eyes at him with approval. He knew he’d been “had” by a black cat.

My heart is full and sad that my Queen Bee Rosie had shed her Earth suit, but I just couldn’t let another day go on without acknowledging all the good work that she did with her human family and all the love and laughs we enjoyed because of her. May you be blessed with knowing a black cat someday.

Sail on dear Rosie and may your every meow be granted.