It’s like cats have a system of communicating, like they say hoboes had back in the Great Depression. A mark they leave on fences that says they’ll feed you here, they’ll 
look after you here. But, even more than that, do cats send a replacement?
Three years ago, we found a tiny grey tiger kitten. Four weeks old, product of a feral mom. She looked just like our old grey tiger Henry had looked when he was a kitten. Henry was up in years and starting to fail. Inside a year of Yeti’s arrival, Henry was dead. Jim said “I knew he wasn’t going to last long once his replacement arrived.” Spooky, I thought, a little crazy too.
I’d long felt that cats might send another your way after their death, but knew it was just my sentimental, perhaps childish way of coping with loss and questions about the hereafter. I believed that my old tortoiseshell cat Cedric, a 
month after her death, had sent Elsie to my house. But even in my most pastel-tinted vision of animals waiting at the Rainbow Bridge, I knew she wouldn’t do it out of love and concern for a homeless kitten. But it comforted me to think that she did do it, even if as a little joke. She wouldn’t mind me having another cat, as long as she wasn’t around.
Cedric hated other cats but, to her chagrin, knew I liked them. Over her long life with me, I’d brought several other cats into her home. Had to find other homes for them fast because she made her feelings on their presence known clearly and violently.
I was planning a move out of province, with no real plans of where or how. Without her, I was pet-free for the first time in fifteen years. Moving would be much easier. I thought it would be just like her, to send a new cat to me and make me deal with the complications of taking an animal into an uncertain future. But we did. Even added a dog, just to make it more complicated.
Elsie grew into queen of the household, always pleasant, always fair. She ruled over people and other animals with a benign paw. This year, she began showing her 
age. Severe arthritis, bad teeth, weight loss, frantic trips to her vet. Lovely soft fur looking a bit ridged, old cat hair. Eyes losing their brightness a bit.
And two months ago Waterworks Wally arrived. A grey tiger and white cat, same colouring as her. I thought of what Jim had said about Henry and Yeti looking so much alike. I feared Elsie’s replacement had come. It wouldn’t be long. And it wasn’t. Rest peacefully, my princess.
