Sedona August 1991 – August 2007

Sedona, my beloved black and white tuxedo cat of 16 years passed into the spiritual realm and out of her physical body on August 24, 2007. Every day I lived with her and with my other cat companion, Sturgis, who survives her, has been a day I started with joy and love. Each and every day I have lived with them, I told them I love them, and have thanked them for choosing to be with me, and living their lives with me. When I retired to bed, I would find them wherever they were, and let them know, again, how much I loved and thanked them for their gift of unconditional love and acceptance. My nickname for Sedona was Dona, and she loved being called by her nickname.

Sedona was a very extraordinary feline. She had wisdom beyond being an animal, wild or domesticated, and I deemed her a “shaman cat” early in her life. She was an old soul in the body of a feline. She was a natural healer of a cat, and if there was a place I hurt or injured or stressed on my body, she would naturally gravitate toward that place, and set herself down beside my hurt body. I asked her to “just be a cat, not a little nurse”, but she must have sensed that was part of her purpose. She was always calm, and had an enormous, courageous heart. She didn’t fear much of anything or anybody, although she didn’t like when I ran the vacuum cleaner. She didn’t run away from anything. She loved sitting in the light of the sun, and her black fur absorbing the heat like a solar panel.



Sedona adored playing with Sturgis, but not too rough, and she would make it known when she had enough. She had a ridiculous looking fabric sewn toy fish, Teenie Sardini, which has catnip sewn into its interior that she loved to play with, and she would even wrap her little paws around Teenie while she took a snooze. Dona loved cantaloupe and honeydew melon, chicken-flavored cat treats (cookies) and if you uttered the word “cookies” she would hound you until she received her special addiction. She relished being petted and rubbed on her belly. I obliged her any chance I could.

Sedona was born in Charlottesville, Virginia. When my former husband Greg and I went to look for another cat to keep company with Sturgis, we went to the SPCA of Charlottesville. The animal shelter had a room full of little kitties, called the Cat House. There were a lot of sweet animals to choose from. A man and woman held a little black and white cat for a while and exclaimed that the cat didn’t purr, then decided she wasn’t for them and put the little girl kitty down on one of the many cat condos in the “kitty” room. Greg and I went over to the little kitty, picked her up, and she purred and purred, and that’s when Sedona chose us to be her family. Her purring was always loud and pleasurable. She loved her cat life, and I made sure I would give her as much love and affection as possible.

Sedona and I had a very special bond, and as the years grew, the bond became stronger. She loved being brushed and groomed, and she sometimes “groomed” me, by licking me for a while with her little pink sandpaper-like tongue. Last year, she could no longer jump up on my bed, so I bought her some “doggy steps”. She didn’t need any coaching from me to use them; she knew they were there for her, and that made her quite happy. She usually came to visit me on my bed before I went to sleep, or during the night. Sometimes, especially when the weather became cold, she would ask to come under the covers, and she’d cuddle with me, right in my arms, usually until I fell asleep.

Dona masked her illness, which still hasn’t been formally diagnosed. I had taken her to the vet about 5 months before because I was concerned about her, and she had an episode that seemed like a seizure. They couldn’t find anything wrong with her then. On the 23rd, I noticed Dona didn’t make it upstairs. She was lying where I left her about 11:30 pm (and I woke up about 5:30 am to feed both Sturgis and Sedona). I picked her up, and carried her upstairs, so she could use the litter box. As I carried her, I felt her life force was weak, which was unusual for her. (I naturally do energy work and energy reading, and I was very worried.) I noticed her breathing was very labored, and she used the litter box with no problem. I stayed with her for a few minutes, and watched her breathing, and knew she was struggling to breathe. I called the emergency animal hospital and got her carrier, and drove to Boulder. We got there at the animal hospital about 6:30 am.

The people at the animal hospital were so good to her, and they put her on oxygen to help her breathe. At 8:00 am, they switched over to the “vet” clinic, from the animal hospital, and ran all sorts of tests, with nothing conclusive as to what was going on. They treated her on many levels, yet there wasn’t a jump on improvement. Dona was a challenging patient for them, because they couldn’t hear her heart or lungs; every time they would touch her, and try to “scope” her, she would purr. It was not hard to fall in love with such a gentle creature like Sedona.

I observed her deteriorate in the matter of 48 hours, unable to breathe easily, unable to use the litter box, and she barely was able to move herself about without stumbling. I couldn’t prolong her suffering any longer, nor have her poked and prodded and more. It was time for me to say goodbye.

I feel like I have a big hole in my heart, and I know in time, it will heal. For now, I need to feel what I feel, which is gratitude and grief. I feel a loss that is very deep. I will do some compensation for my loss, by loving on Sturgis as much as possible. I know he is missing his companion, too.

Sedona gave me so very, very much. Dona gave me so much joy, laughter (she had a very good sense of humor as you can tell from the photo), forgiveness, and above all, real unconditional love. She taught me to be happy in the moment, and to always say “I love you” and “I’m grateful you’re a part of my life”. My heart is full and empty at the same time, thinking about my beautiful Dona.