
My Client’s Cat Is a What?
Most cats have a job. Some catch mice. Some demand dinner. Suki apparently does this…
this is not Rowan
Pippa came to me after her dog Rowan became a 🌈 pet.
She had a question that I think so many of us carry after losing an animal we love:
“Could I have done anything differently the day he died?”
So we went on a HeartKIN Connection journey together.
Rowan appeared in a beautiful place.
I asked Pippa’s question directly.
“No. You did what you needed to,” he said immediately. “It would have been beautiful to rest in the sun as I died. But humans have a tendency to try to fix things. You thought you could fix it. I forgive you for that.”
Oof.
I’ll be honest. That second part got me 😳.
Because he’s right.
We want to fix it, reverse it, delay it—anything but accept it.
And in that urgency to do something, we forget that sometimes the most loving thing is simply to be present.
And then Rowan went even deeper: “My neurosis was your neurosis. When you worried, I worried.”
Pippa had been anxious about Rowan. And he’d been mirroring it right back.
Then he told her: “Stop wishing I was there cuz I am. I’m everywhere. I am the buzzard. I am the oak. Stop looking for me and you’ll find me.”
I love that last line. Stop looking for me and you’ll find me. It’s so simple, but it changes everything about how we grieve.
And then he reminded her that he had had a great life with her. That it was perfect. That the time to go was now.
He also said he can still be there when she asks. Grounding. Supporting. Present. Steady.
Later in the session, Rowan came back with another message.
Rowan had left partly so that Pippa would be free. She had spent so much of her life caring for him—and also used him as an excuse to stay home.
And now, without needing to look after him, she had an opportunity to get out into the world again.
His message was direct:
“Honour me by going out more. Move. Find your tribe. Find your people.”
Rowan had spent his life walking beside Pippa. And now he was nudging her to walk a little further. To meet people. To “let the stagnant water flow” (his words). To trust there was still a beautiful life waiting for her.
I love that.
And perhaps that’s one of the most beautiful things about loving an animal: First they teach us about life. And then, they teach us about death – or that there is none.
This story was part of a HeartKIN Connection. I’ve changed names to protect my client’s privacy.

Most cats have a job. Some catch mice. Some demand dinner. Suki apparently does this…

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