A meeting with a beloved pet in the afterlife

In this article I am going to share something very special with you. It is a meeting I had with my own deceased cat, Pittiput, in the afterlife during a shamanic journey about two months after he died.

A little background

My husband and I liked to go for a regular walks in a park nearby where we lived. We enjoyed getting fresh air and feeding the birds. One day Pittiput just showed up.  My husband and I fell in love with Pittiput the moment we first met him, and we realized he needed someone to care for him. So we did. We went to visit him every day, to feed him and spend time with him. It was heartbreaking to leave him there. We did try once to have him home in our apartment for several days, but he didn’t like being cooped up indoors at all. He just had to be able to go outside. He was also a very social cat – he just loved going around the park greeting people. So we continued going to the park twice each day to take care of him until we could get a house with a garden where he could have it all – a proper home and a beautiful garden. He was very happy here with us. We were blessed to have had him in our lives for 10 years.

During the journey I did after his death, my intention was to connect with Pittiput to tell him that I love him, and also to ask him if there was anything he needed help with or if he had any messages for me.

Here is an excerpt from that journey:

I prepare and begin the journey, finding myself traveling to the park where Pittiput used to live. As I enter the park, the sun is shining. It is a peaceful morning, and me and my power animal have the park to ourselves. I meet the peacock who lives in the park and greet him before moving on to the little pond.

The little pond was a favorite place, and magical on a sunny summer day with birds singing and dragon flies, bees and other insects flying around. I sit on the bench close to the water, and after a little while I suddenly notice that Pittiput is sitting right next to me on my right side. I ask him why we meet here, and if that is a problem for him if he is usually in another place.

Pittiput answers: “Here is a good place – it was important to me and to you – both together and apart.” And then he continues: “I have no problems traveling – I don’t have the limitations here that you find in the physical reality.” Then he comes over and lies on my lap, looking out over the pond. He says to me that he is okay but that he misses being with us a lot. He talks about the importance of love and relationships. He rests here on my lap for quite a while, and it feels good just being together. He then sits up, and I bend down and kiss him.

I ask my power animal for help to handle the longing and need that both I and Pittiput feel to be together, and he reminds us to be in the present, to utilize the possibility we now have to be together anywhere and anytime. Of course it is not physical, but now we don’t have the restrictions and the painful separation we used to have, when we had to leave him in the park. Pittiput is okay now, and we can focus on the joy of being together.

Then Pittiput jumps down and we take a walk around the park. It is so hard to part, but eventually Pittiput ‘flies’ up in the sky. He says he wants me to come back again, and I promise I will. I thank my power animal and Pittiput, and then travel back to ordinary reality.

This journey is a brief one, but the depth of the connection I made with my beloved cat during that journey has stayed with me more than other more ‘action-filled’ journeys have.

I think about how a loss like that is not just something you ‘cure’ – you don’t just heal or get over the need to be together. It is more about learning to live with the loss. After the journey I decide to think of more ways to honor and connect with Pittiput.

We love you, Pittiput. Thanks for all the joy and love you brought into our lives.

Note: all photos are authentic: Pittiput when he lived in he park, the peacock he shared the park with, and Pittiput’s magical pond which he dearly loved.