Updated: Jul 7, 2020
July 4, 2020, I lost the love of my life. My heart was shattered into a million pieces and then those pieces were shattered a thousand times. The love of my life only communicated to me with his eyes, a few meows accented with tail swag but I understood him. My beloved cat was with me only eleven years but he left such a legacy. My Mr. Babes or Baby Babes as I called him, came into this world in 2009 to a single mother who birthed him under my bed while I was at work. I remember walking into my bedroom and discovering that I now had six new roommates. When I saw the tangle of orange, black and white fur balls, I instantly fell in love. They were so precious and after a move to my closet they begin to develop individual personalities. I would rush home, open the closet and greet them with, "Hey my babies." They would meow loudly and try to get out of their cardboard box prison, but they were too small to get out that box.
Soon they were old enough to get out of that box and into mischief. Mr. Babes was the one I had picked to keep from the litter. He was a male and he was cute. I did not have a clue that this little mustached fuzzy would touch lives around the nation. I did not treat him any different from the other kittens. It took some years before he grabbed the favorite spot in my heart.
I do not know when my heart shifted to Mr. Babes. Maybe it was those nights I would wake up and his paws were stroking my face. He loved to stroke my face and for me to carry him around on my shoulder. Mr. Babes loved to take pictures too. When I would go to take pictures of him, he would pose like he was going to be on the cover of a magazine. He would join me in my office when I would do praise and worship. He would sit on top of the printer like a choir director, watching me cry out to the Lord. Sometimes I would talk to him and he would literally move his lips as if he was trying to repeat what I said. My Baby Babes was so special. He was just a cat to the world but I seen the relationship that he had with God. That cat had favor with God even until the end of his life.
The first medical episode that Mr. Babes had was on a Thanksgiving Day. He was running with his brother when I seen him freeze up, yowl and then go to fall over. Every time he had these episodes, I never missed catching him until the last one he had. Well when this happened, I didn't know what to do. I grabbed him and was on my way to the front door when I realized I did not have a shirt on. I was going to give the neighbors a sight they would always remember. Thank God for the Holy Spirit, halting me and bringing me back to my senses. The Holy Spirit reminded me to pray and I did. Mr. Babes recovered about a hour later. He was good as new. As the months passed, we forgot about the episode until Thanksgiving came again and he had the same attack! I took him to the doctor and they could find nothing wrong with him. So I trusted God for his life. He would have several of these "freeze" moments or seizures in his life. Each time I would pray and he would be alright. If that wasn't scary enough, whenever he came into contact with a cat other than his sister and brother he would get deathly sick. The last incident in 2016, had me rushing him to the doctor for the shot that always "fixed" him when this happened, only to find out, he had a heart problem. The vet got on the table and listened to his heart. She said it was a murmur and that it was causing his heart to fail. She gave me a look that said this was the end and did not charge me for the visit.
When I got home, the Lord spoke to me and said stay up with him all night. All night, I walked the floor praying for him and then God said, "Read healing scriptures to him out loud". I pulled up some healing scriptures and began to read them out loud to him. This was my last act of faith because at one point I had literally felt his life try to leave his body! I was sitting on the floor by the bed reading the scriptures when I looked up and Mr. Babes had crawled from the other side of the bed to where he could look over my shoulder. I kept reading and he kept looking at me as if he understood. Soon I heard a thud as he had jumped on the floor and went to eat. He was as a good as new. The Lord taught me that night the power of reading his Word out loud. There were numerous occasions when God used Mr. Babes to strengthen my faith, but this incident gave me evidence that even animals could be affected by Word of God
Soon after his last incident, I started posting pictures of Mr. Babes on Facebook. He thrived on the props that I used to create scenarios that revolved around the works of the Lord. He was first called Minister Cat and then my cousin Angie was like, call him Pastor Cat. Mr. Babes or Pastor Cat as my Facebook friends called him, soon had a following. People loved the pictures and videos of him and soon the Church of Meow was founded. His members were Deacon, Sister Princess and Mother who joined him to create hilarious videos and photos of their lives. I branded Pastor Cat so well that people always asked me how he was doing. There were people who disliked cats but grew to love seeing what he and his church was up to. I even went down South and a guy that never commented on any of Pastor Cat's photos told his mom, "She has cats named Pastor and Deacon and they are funny." Yes, my Mr. Babes brought joy to so many. God literally used him to capture people's heart for God in a different way. People would say how much joy and laughter he and his church members brought into his life.
June 2020, I noticed that Mr. Babes had shifted slightly. There was something different about him but it was so slight, it did not have me concerned. His end of life journey, started in my office. I heard him yelp and afterwards he went into my bedroom and had a freeze seizure. He fell over under the bed and I kneeled down under the bed and prayed for him. He came back but was never the same. I knew he was sick because Mr. Babes loved to eat. We would literally fight over the food I was eating. Even as a kitten, he was the last one weaned. He was a foodie. He started being repelled by the very foods that he would move heaven and hell to eat. He seemed better but his appetite did not come back. I took him to the vet, who had to sedate him in order to get blood from him, which caused him to drool for hours when we got home. I patiently would clean him up and joke that I was not his personal assistant. Two days later, he went to eat and had a seizure. When I picked him up he was struggling to breathe. He crawled under the bed and was barely breathing. I walked the floor praying and warring for his life. I even bargained with the Lord and said if you let him live, I will give you two years off of my life. What foolish things we do for the people or animals we love. God heard my prayer and allowed him to live.
For almost two weeks, he would get up in the morning and be himself. He seemed to get stronger but towards the end of the day he was weak. Then he would do less and less in the morning and sit around struggling to breathe all day. My baby was preparing to die. He would hide under dressers, behind doors and under blankets. Animals can sense when it is their time to die. I refused to accept that he would died. I read healing scriptures and would sing to him that Jesus love him until he would come out of those dark places. I just KNEW God was going to completely heal him. I prayed and asked God to show me what to do with him. Should I take to the vet or trust that God would heal him? I prayed and worshipped seeking an answer but received only silence. I thought my connection with God had somehow been broken.
On July 4th, I took him to the emergency vet. I braced myself for the news. I had a feeling it would be bad. I could not go in with him because of COVID-19. The vet called me and told me that she had found fluid all around his lungs. They could not even see his heart on the X-rays because of the fluid. There was also a growth in his liver that expanded his liver into his stomach. He was in poor shape. He was also going through the stages of congestive heart failure. The vet told me that I could pay three thousand dollars and they would drain the fluid so he could breathe but he could pass away from them doing this procedure. If he lived it would probably be for a few months because he would need medicine for his heart and possible cancer treatments. The other choice she gave me was I could euthanize him. I immediately called out to God asking him to speak to me or give me a sign, but he remained silent.
I called my friend Cathy and she offered golden nuggets of wisdom. She said, "Do you want to feel like you did everything to save his life and pay this money or do you want to look at the facts and allow him to go?" I was so afraid to let him go that I started to have a panic attack in the back of the parking lot. I couldn't breath and I felt myself blacking out. I got myself together and decided to let him go. I made the most unselfish decision of my life. I called the vet and told them that I was going to end his life. I asked could I see him before he died and if a friend could be there for me, they said yes. My dearest friend Cathy came to be with me. They allowed us into the facility and said that if he was distressed when they tried to bring him to the room we were in that I would not be able to see him. The lady came back and said it was too risky to bring him in. She said they would bend the rules and allow me to come to ICU to see him. Look at the favor of God. My baby looked fine. He wasn't struggling to breathe but he was out of it. The lady gave me her phone so that I could take last pictures of him and I spent some time talking with him. I said good-bye and walked out knowing I would never see him again.
His presence is missed in my life. They brought his ashes home to me the next day, I broke down crying and couldn't move from the porch. He was really gone. I peeked at his ashes and lost it. Fine white ashes like sand was all that was left of my baby. No more Baby Babes as I called him.
Have God spoken to me yet about all of this, NO? I asked for a sign that he was okay and beautiful orange and black butterfly flew around me and came so close to my face that I could almost feel that he was going to touch my face. Mr. Babes was orange and white. Mr. Babes loved to touch my face. I have not seen an orange and black butterfly in years. I believe it was Mr. Babes telling me he was free. I am not mad at God but for a minute I felt forsaken. God spoke through my friend Cathy and sent her to be with me during the hardest time of my life. I believe God knew I needed a human representative of him to get me through that day.
Mr. Babes prepared his sister and brother for his departure. He just failed to prepare me. He took a day and groomed each of them and spent time with them. Each one of them now do things that only he would do! I accused them of being copy cats because they slept in his favorite spots and started acting like him before he died. It was the strangest thing. I didn't know this was to preserve Mr. Babes memory in the earth. I know this blog is long, but I needed to share his life and how God used a cat to impact so many lives.
Rest Well my Son.