Five years ago, my neighbour buried her veteran husband and found herself all alone. It had been five years since MargaretMrs. Margaret Wilkinshad lost her husband, a war veteran, and was left with no one. Theyd never had children. The old woman couldnt stop thinking about her dear Edward.
Theyd married just before the war. Then Edward went off to fight while loyal Margaret waited patiently. He came home alive but lost his left hand. He loved his wife deeply, cherished her more than anything. Hed promised to protect her from harm, but in the end, he couldnt keep that promise. He passed away, leaving her entirely alone.
On the anniversary of his death, a large black cat turned up at her door. It appeared in the dead of night, out of nowhere, mewing pitifully on her doorstep. A snowstorm was raging outside, the wind howling, but somehow, Mrs. Wilkins heard that faint cry. She opened the door and found this strange cat. Taking pity, she let him in and offered him some milk.
But the cat refused the food. With a proud, independent air, he prowled through the rooms, inspecting the house. Then he jumped onto Mrs. Wilkins pillow, started purring, and fell fast asleep.
She couldnt bring herself to shoo him away, so she slept beside him. The next morning, she took a closer look. The cat was well-groomed, well-fednothing like a stray! Jet black, with huge green eyes and an unshakable confidence. One detail caught her attention: his front left paw was missing toes, as if theyd been torn off.
“Just like my Edward!” she cried. The cat, meanwhile, leaped gently onto her lap and purred.
“I should give you a name… how about Oliver?” she murmured, scratching behind his ear. The cat twitched and stared at her so intensely it unsettled her.
HIS EYES WERE HUMAN. NOT “LIKE” HUMAN EYESACTUALLY HUMAN.
“Alright, Oliver doesnt suit you. What about Charlie? Thats a nice name!” she said quickly. The cat meowed in protest, jumped off her lap, and started deliberately clawing the sofa.
“Fine, fine. No name. Youre just The Cat. But please leave the sofa alone,” she pleaded. Grumbling something unintelligible, The Cat obeyed and stalked off to the bedroom with dignity.
And so they lived together: Mrs. Wilkins and The Cat. I often visited her, and shed tell me unbelievable things about him.
First, The Cat looked after her. After Edwards death, Mrs. Wilkins had a heart attack, and her chest often ached. But whenever she lay down, The Cat would curl up on her, purring until she slept. The pain vanished as if it had never been there.
Then one day, something truly strange happened. Mrs. Wilkins was resting when there was a knock at the door. The Cat followed her as she went to answer. It was Dave, the local drunk and troublemaker. He shoved his foot in the door, swearing, and demanded money for drink. Mrs. Wilkins tried to refuse, but he grew aggressive, even insulting her late husband.
Suddenly, The Cat snarled and lunged. Dave pushed him away, but The Cat went for his throat. Cursing, Dave stumbled back and left. The Cat gave Mrs. Wilkins a meaningful lookwith those HUMAN EYESraised his tail, and retreated, mission accomplished.
Another time, Mrs. Wilkins planned to go to the council office for firewood and asked me to come along. We were to take the bus into town. I agreed, cleared my schedule, and went to her house early.
But there she sat, still in her nightclothes, looking confused.
“Mrs. Wilkins, why arent you ready? We can still make it if we hurry,” I insisted.
“My dear, Im not going. Im sorry,” she said softly.
“Why not?”
“I dont know how to say this… dont laugh… The Cat told me not to go.”
“What?! I took time off for this! Youre listening to a cat?”
“Listen,” she said. “Last night, I dreamed The Cat spoke to me. Like youre speaking now. He looked at me and said, Stay home, Margaret. Dont go tomorrow. My tongue froze! It wasnt just that he spokehe called me Margaret! Only Edward ever called me that. AND HIS VOICE WAS EDWARDS. Then The Cat sang. Edwards favourite song:
Over the hills and far away,
Where the miners dig for gold…
Remember, my Margaret, I sang this when I left for war?
Somehow, I managed to ask, Edward, is that you?
In a way, yes. I saw how hard it was for you alone, so I came back. Tell Lucy not to go through with her operation. She wont survive it.
And then I woke up.”
I was stunned. For a long moment, I just gaped like a fish out of water.
Then I snapped back: “Mrs. Wilkins, are you feeling alright? Should we call a doctor?”
“Ive never felt better, dear! I spoke to my Edward!” she said, smiling through tears.
I checked her pulsestrangely, it was normal.
From then on, she called the cat Edward. Oddly, he responded to the name straightaway.
Her predictions (or The Cats?) came true. The bus we were meant to take crashed that dayblack ice, the driver lost control. No fatalities, but many injured. A coincidence? Maybe. And a week later, the firewood arrived.
She also told me to warn Lucy, Edwards niece, not to have her surgery. Lucy ignored it and died on the operating table.
ANOTHER COINCIDENCE? I dont think so.
So they lived: Mrs. Wilkins and her cat Edward. He kept healing her, protecting her. He stayed until her last day.
She lived to 94. She passed last year. Right till the end, she was sharp, always fretting over Edward. She made me promise to look after him if she went first.
She died quietly in her sleep.
Ill never forget how that cat grieved. He wasnt young anymore, his black fur gone white.
For three days, while her body lay at home, Edward never left the coffin. I SAW TEARS IN HIS EYES. People shooed him, but somehow, he always ended up back there, sitting, mourning.
He followed her to the grave, and when she was buried, he stayed. I tried to take him home, but he ran.
He lived at the cemetery, on her and Edwards grave. Refused to come with me. I went every day to feed him.
I worried how hed survive winter there, tried forcing him home once. He escaped that same day, back to the grave.
Winter was harsh, but he made it. He died in early spring. When I came to feed him, I found him curled up by Mrs. Wilkins headstone, as if keeping watch.
I dont know if Edward was just a cat or if her husbands spirit truly lived inside him.
People talk about reincarnationthat in the next life, you might come back as anything, even a cat.
I dont know if its real. But I like to believe Edwards spirit was in that cat. He came back to his Margaret, to protect her, save her.
And he stayed with her till the endjust as hed promised.
