One night, at four o’clock in the morning, something happened that brought tears to my eyes. Bittersweet tears. Tears of happiness, tears of sadness, tears of remembrance.
First, you should go here to read the first part of this story. I’ll wait while you do.
Okay pau?
K’den.
So at 4 a.m. this morning I was sound asleep, when suddenly I was woken up by a kitty doing this kind of yowling thing. Just exactly like ʻUkulele used to do. For a minute I was disoriented, knowing she wasn’t here. But I jumped out of bed wikiwiki, and went out into the hallway.
When I was doing wildlife rehab volunteer work, I had a friend named Dodie, who told me, when I was grieving the loss of one of our pets, and wondering if I’d get another, that I would know the right time and the right pet. How? “Because,” she said, “the right pet for you will have something of your beloved lost one’s in it; maybe a look, or a mannerism, or something. And you’ll just know.”
As I’ve written before, I knew that Kalakoa was the right kitty for me because of that black spot on her leg that was exactly like ʻUkulele’s spot, and in exactly the same place. That’s the kind of thing that Dodie was talking about.
So when I hurried out into the hallway at dark-thirty this morning, not knowing what I’d find, suddenly I stopped dead in my tracks. Because there, right in front of me, was Kalakoa, who had just brought me part of a fleece and laid it at my feet in triumph, just exactly like ʻUkie used to do. As if sheʻd vanquished the vicious beast.
I just stood there, tears rolling down my cheeks. It was just like Dodie had told me. I knew Kalakoa was the right kitty for me because of the black spot on her leg, but I never dreamed that she would be so much like ʻUkulele.
I got back into bed, missing ʻUkulele so much, but oh, so grateful that in a way, she is still here.
A Mānoa Girl's Bloggie 
Oh this is such a lovely story, Mokihana! I read the whole thing from start to finish, with all the little gifts Ukelele used to bring you, and now your new kitty too! They know exctly what we need, don’t they! Our little Beatrice gives me a wide berth after each chemo treatment and we think she can smell it on me and it upsets her. She started to lose her fur on her back end and stomach, as if to come out in sympathy although with my particular chemo I am not losing my hair – the vet said it was due to the chemo and we now use Feliway and it is growing back. She is full of love and cuddles at the end of each cycle when presumably I smell more like my normal self again!!
Thanks for visiting – I think I’ve sorted the blogging problems now! There’s always something, isn’t there!
Hope you are well.
Hugs,
Shoshi x
Thanks so much for stopping by; I am so happy that the Feliway is working so well. It’s really amazing how our animals can sense what’s going on. I hope that your treatments restore you to health!
OMG, Moki, I can’t stop crying. Beautiful story, so beautifully written.
Mahalo nui, Jalna. Every day it seems like Kalakoa shows more and more of ʻUkulele in her. It’s pretty amazing, kind of chicken skin, and all so wonderful.
What would we do without animals in our lives?
I honestly don’t know…I sure can’t imagine my live without them! Thanks for stopping by!
I had a dog named Benney and he was very attached to me. He knew he wasn’t allowed to sleep in my bed but on a bed bench. But I’ll wake up during the night to go to the bathroom and his head was sharing my pillow. I’d go and he was gone, back on the bed bench. Little rascal. Then every night when I was on my computer on the floor, he would lie against me sleeping. Then one day he passed on…..and it took me a long time to realize since I was so intense with my computer….that nightly I would feel his warm body against my lower back. Once I realized it, of course it never happened again. But I was so use to his constant presence that I never thought about it. He came back to keep me company, what a loyal little dog. Still miss Ben Ben to this day.
I don’t think we ever stop missing our beloved pets. I love your Benney story… I like to think they’re really not that far away from us.
How utterly wonderful. Thanks for sharing this, Moki-chan.