Remembering Bashert

The Divine Ms. P: It was two years ago today that Bashert died.

He was a gentle, loving spirit who chose the woman when she felt she had nothing left to give. (He adopted her a few months after the last of her three kitties died; they had all gone to the Bridge during a difficult one and a half year period.)

Bashert was a street tom; the vet figured he was anywhere between two to four years old when he adopted her, but he looked a lot older because the poor guy was in rough shape. He was FIV+, missing part of his ear and fur along his back and had runny eyes and broken teeth. During their first three weeks of "bonding" she gave him ear drops, eye drops and pills.

The woman promised Bashert that she'd get him healthy again and then find him a loving home. One day while sitting on her bed a few feet away from him she decided that the time had come to consider his future options. While she was thinking about who would be a loving companion for him, Bashert got up and settled down in her lap. It was the first time he did that and she knew right then and there that he was meant to be in her life, hence the name Bashert which is the Yiddish word for "destiny."

The two became best friends and loved to hang out together. Bashert was a snuggle kitty who loved to play as much as he loved to cuddle. Every night he would sleep with her and on chilly mornings she'd wake up to find his head next to her on the pillow, while the rest of him was underneath the covers.

One night the woman had a dream about a sick kitty. The next day she took Bashert to the vet. The test results indicated that his kidneys were going and the vet gave him a month to a year. It was largely because of Bashert's health issues that she learned Reiki so she could help him, and when she heard about a local homoeopath who treated animals as well as people, he started receiving homoeopathic treatments along with the care of his regular vet.

Mr. B lived another two and a half years. Along the way he developed a tumour and a heart murmur, but right up until the week before he died he was a happy kitty who loved hanging out with his bestest pal.

The woman still has a big Bashert sized hole in her heart that no one can fill, but she will always be grateful that this special kitty chose to share his life with her.

Writing this was one of the most difficult challenges ever. How does one capture the essence of anyone, especially someone who had so much personality? One thing is for sure, Bashert will always remain alive in her heart. She's not joking when she says that she'd like to be more like him -- a generous, loving and open spirit who gave with all his heart and soul.