Gracie

One day, when I was in the 7th grade, I found myself in my usual Friday art class. I think we were told we could draw anything we wanted. I had made the two drawings below in order from left to right. 

The drawing was of a kitten we had at the time named Abby, who we rescued from the back alley after her mother  left her in a dump under a neighbor's deck. She was the runt of the litter and was deformed. Her back curved down and her back legs were shorter than her front legs, which made her look like a guinea pig. When she ran and tried to stop, she'd often skid and slam into the wall. But that never slowed her down. Boy did she love to run! Unfortunately she couldn't jump, so she would often hurt herself trying to get up and down furniture. At one point, she stopped eating and couldn't keep her food down. The call came late at night, unexpectedly. We lost her at about two years of age. They told us her organs had grown too big for her body.

Below is a photo I found of Abby.

So when I drew Abby, my art teacher came over. She didn't seem pleased with my work and asked me to make Abby look more "cat-like". She said she looked too sad. So I made the second drawing, and added a smile. She said, "Why don't you try a different cat? Make her more fluffy." That's when I drew the kitten I will now name Gracie. As you can see, she is IDENTICAL!!! Down to her face markings, head, neck and leg stripes!!! Again, these drawings are from 1996!

It makes me wonder if Abby came back to me...in a body that would would work for her... a body she could run with and bounce with. And she knew exactly what she wanted to look like. And she knew that our destiny together as members of the same soul group would inevitably lead us back together. Penelope Smith, author of Animals in Spirit, says animals choose the bodies they come into, down to the last spot.

And boy does Gracie like to sprint... with no apparent destination in mind...

The soul comes from without into the human body, as into a temporary abode, and it goes out of it anew and passes into other habitations, for the soul is immortal. It is the secret of the world that all things subsist and do not die, but only retire a little from sight and afterwards return again. Nothing is dead; men feign themselves dead, and endure mock funerals...and there they stand looking out of the window, sound and well, in some strange new disguise. -Ralph Waldo Emerson