Tuesday, September 24, 2013
During the time that we have shared our home, Babette has taught me to seize the opportunity to play whenever possible, wash out the sink, and that doughnuts, coconut cookies and chicken fingers were made for sharing.
William's aunt gave him a book called, Angel Cats. It's by Allen and Linda Anderson. I haven't had a chance to read it all yet, but what I did read made me think of one of my own stories. When I had skin cancer, the course of treatments was to surgically remove half a square foot of skin from my side. I couldn't move my arm, because it would cause the skin to pull and the staples would send shooting bolts of pain throughout my body. The newly tightened flesh made me feel like I was wearing a corset and it made it hard to breathe. The worst though came at night when I tried to sleep. I've always been someone who sleeps on their stomach with my arm under my pillow to prop it up under my head. With the surgery, I was laying on my back and unable to sleep the way I normally used to. I tried warm milk, chamomile tea, and melatonin, but nothing worked. I eventually graduated to stronger sleep aids, but was rudely awakened when I would roll on my side in my sound sleep. The only thing that would comfort me was Babette. First, she'd check and see if I was breathing and kiss my nose. Then she'd lay by my side and purr. She did this every night. The sound and subtle vibration were comforting and relaxed me enough to finally sleep. I have since learned that cat purrs have been linked to accelerating the healing process. She was taking care of me.
Babette is certainly an Angel Cat and I am lucky to have her (and her brother) in my life.