“Mr. Fluffy” was a Himalayan cat with long white hair and gorgeous blue eyes who lived with us for seven years. I called him my “angel boy” because he was so ethereal, so much more than a mere cat. Sometimes I imagined he was a higher soul who had taken a feline body because of some past-life karma we had together.

Unfortunately, he was quite naïve. As a kitten, he fell off the roof chasing a blue jay, and he contracted liver flukes from drinking the outdoor bird water. He didn’t seem to understand that there were people and other animals in the world that might do him harm, and this made him prone to getting in trouble. In the spring of 2007, he was attacked by a feral cat and contracted the feline version of AIDS (called FIV). He died three months later, despite all attempts to save him.

Even though I am clairvoyant and do a form of energy healing from the Philippines called “magnetic healing,” I was unable to change the course of Mr. Fluffy’s final illness. But the situation did bring us into deeper telepathic communication. Even before he passed, Mr. Fluffy told me that after his body died he would stay with me in spirit. He would be one of my Spirit Guides when I do clairvoyant readings and healing with other animals. He said being in spirit would be much easier, because then he would be pure light and wouldn’t have to deal with the urges of his feline body. As a cat, he had always had a hard time controlling himself.

After he was gone, my telepathic communication with him became even stronger, although it wasn’t always a positive experience. Two weeks after he died—while I was holding Buster, one of our other cats—I felt an energetic wave of loneliness and remorse moving towards me. It was Fluffy’s Spirit. Perhaps he was observing me with Buster, and it made him realize how much he missed me. I had the sense that he was stuck in some sort of “spiritual limbo,” but that someone was telling him it was time to “go to the light.”

At first, I didn’t know what to say or do, but then I started telling Buster, “You can be my number one and a half, but never Number One, because Fluffy will always be my Number One.” I wanted to communicate to the Spirit of Mr. Fluffy that no one could ever take his place.

Sensing it was time for our final goodbye, I lay down on my healing table with Mr. Fluffy’s photo held to my chest. I felt him in spirit as he lay down, too, for one final “heart hug.” At this point, it definitely felt like another a spirit—one that was vibrating at a very high level—was directing everything.

The Spirit of Mr. Fluffy sat upright on my chest and looked at me for a moment. Then I felt the cord between us at the heart chakra level being pulled out. It was extremely painful, both emotionally and physically. I could hardly believe how much it hurt. I began to weep from the pain, but also relief because I knew that now we could both move on.

As his Spirit began to slowly move away from me, I sensed he was holding the hand of an enormous angel, who was guiding him towards the light. He turned once and looked back at me, and then they were gone.

As I continued to cry, I felt my Spirit Guide come towards me as a ray of rose-colored light. He pressed his energetic hand into my heart, as if to close up the wound left by the cord removal. I understood this because I do the same thing for my human clients after removing an energetic cord. My chest became quite warm from my Spirit Guide’s energy, and then I felt him patting my head until I stopped crying.

Seven months later, during meditation, I asked God to show me where the Spirit of Mr. Fluffy had gone. Almost instantly, I was in a place that can only be described as “animal heaven.” It was filled with iridescent crystal light and appeared in the form of a beautiful, colorful garden. There were no human souls there, but rather thousands of different kinds of animals, who were engaged in active play. They were running and laughing, and when they jumped they would rise up fifteen feet into the air, as if free from the constraints of gravity. It was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen (in any dimension!).

There was just SO MUCH JOY!

Then I noticed the Spirit of Mr. Fluffy, and he wasn’t doing so well. He appeared sunken into himself and filled with sadness. His head was down on his paws and his eyes were closed. I sensed that he had no idea where he was, and that he was feeling sorry for himself. Perhaps he felt like he had failed us (and himself) by getting into a fight that made him sick and caused his physical death.

Mr. Fluffy’s feeling tone of regret was overwhelming. I began to pray to God for help, and I talked to the Spirit of Mr. Fluffy, telling him things like: “I forgive you. It wasn’t your fault. I’m sorry for anything I did that might have hurt you. Maybe I expected too much of you.”

After a few minutes, he opened his eyes and lifted his head. The look on his face seemed to say: “Where am I?”

At this point, my attention was turned away. When I looked back at him, I saw that he was sitting up and looking around in amazement. Again, my attention I was drawn away. A moment later, I saw that now he was lying down in a full stretch and yawning, as if he was coming out of his stupor.

Finally, I observed the Spirit of Mr. Fluffy playing with another cat spirit. He was chasing his new feline friend and having the “time of his life.” At one point, he turned his head towards me, smiled, and winked. It was hard to let him go, but mostly it was a relief to see him moving into a more positive spiritual space.

Everyone knows cats have nine lives, but I was blessed to observe the “Tenth Life of Mr. Fluffy”—the life he is now living in the spiritual realm. I have had other “messages from spirit” telling me that he will come back in a new incarnation, and I remain open to this possibility. But since our Fifth Dimensional healing, I have not missed him quite so much.


About six months after Mr. Fluffy died, I began to look for him because he said he would try to come back to us. I was hoping he would be a dog, because then he might not be so vulnerable. My efforts were futile. Even though I am clairvoyant, I was too emotionally involved to be objective in finding him in a new body. Finally, in desperation, I told the Spirit of Mr. Fluffy that if he wanted to live with us again he would just have to show up in our backyard.

Another six months passed, and then one day I glanced out the kitchen door and was surprised to see a small grey bunny going nose to nose with Buster, one of our two remaining Himalayan cats. The rabbit was not much bigger than a large rat, and he could run faster than any animal I’ve ever met. We quickly gave up trying to catch him, and began canvassing the neighborhood for his possible owner. Actually, “he” could have been a “she.” We didn’t know at that point.

Approaching a house down the street, we met the husband in the driveway. “If I had my way, we’d eat that stupid bunny for dinner.” Knocking on the door, we met his wife, who tugged at her hair and screamed: “That bunny is driving me crazy. He won’t stay in his cage and I have two children and a ten-hour-a-day job. You can keep him!” The kids were staring at their mother and seemed confused.

Keep him we did, and we named him “Mr. Pickles.” At first, our other cats tried to chase him, but we were able to teach them to respect our new friend and not consider him as possible dinner. He’s been with us for two years now, and we are convinced he is Mr. Fluffy reincarnated.

For one thing, he has occasional trouble remembering where his litter box is, and although he tries hard sometimes he “misses.” He refuses to be put in a cage and has the run of the house and fenced backyard. Also, he’s in love with Buster the cat and follows him everywhere. When Fluffy was alive this relationship was reversed—Buster followed Fluffy everywhere. Well, I guess even animals create karma!

Mr. Pickles has taught us many things about how animals communicate, most of it telepathic. He looks at me and projects his thoughts. Usually it’s quite simple. For example, I was reading the paper when he nudged my foot. “What do you want?” I asked. He went to his food dish and shoved it halfway across the room with his nose. Then he looked at me and nudged my foot again. After I put food in the dish, he beamed me his little bunny “thank you.”

He also likes to play. Just today I was digging in the garden with a small tool. I looked down and there he was at my feet. He gave me a penetrating glance and began digging a small hole right next to where I was digging. Mr. Fluffy was also very much into holes, whoever was digging them, so this was another confirmation. Mr. Pickles also favors picking up the plastic dustpan and carrying it around in his teeth and chewing on shoes.

Whatever Spirit lives in Mr. Pickles, we take great pleasure in having him in our lives, and we watch him closely to see what other lessons he has to teach. Perhaps someday I’ll write a book called “Everything I Need to Know I Learned From My Rabbit!”