I won’t lie. I’ve had a lot of pets that I loved, but Maozer was my favorite cat. Everyone has a favorite pet of all time, and he was mine. He was the last of my cat’s three kittens born a long time ago. I was living alone at the time, well not actually alone. It was Maozer and me. That was until I decided to move into a new apartment with my boyfriend and of course Maozer had to come along.

The very first night we stayed in our new partment, Maozer cried. He not only cried, he cried all night with his exasperating gutteral cry that sounded just like his name -Maooooo. He never cried like that in the eight years I had him. I tried to tempt him with his favorite food. A treat. I held him. Played with him. Nothing stopped his crying. It was incessant and so loud and constant I thought my new neighbors would definitely complain.

So sometime in the early morning hours, with total lack of sleep and his continuous Maaaaaooo.  I blindly just reflexively opened the door and let him outside. As soon as it happened I got woke and realized what I just did. This was a new place. A new neighborhood. He had never been here. He didn’t go outside. I willingly opened the door and let him out. I raced outside, canvassed the entire area. He was gone. Our first romantic day in our new apartment and I was devastated and depressed.

We wandered everywhere with friends calling his name. Nothing. I called every animal hospital in the area. No sign of him. We lived near a wooded gully where raccoons, other cats, dogs could harm him. I was beside myself with guilt and fear. Nothing was working.

So, what would a desperate psychic do? Bring out her trusty old Ouija Board, used since you were twelve and ask the spirit you’ve consciously known as a spiritual guide for help.  This is exactly what happened.

ME (in desperation) Will I ever see him again?”

SPIRIT (calmly) “He will return by 9 0’clock.”

What? What kind of answer was that? Cat’s can’t tell time that way. Neither do spirits. It was getting dark. It was winter cold. My cat was out there, freezing and hungry and lost because of me.

No matter what or how I asked, the Spirit kept spelling: “He will return by 9 o’clock.”  I was tired, forlorn and inconsolable, too upset to trust this.

Since we just moved in, we had no phone connection yet (this was before cell phones), so my boyfriend went to his office to make some calls and probably to get away from the depressing atmosphere surrounding him. In his absence, I like a Pavlovian dog periodically opened the door, peered into the dark, and called, “Mazoer!” Nothing stirred in the cold night air. Where was he? Had someone taken him in? Was he hurt? Hungry? I’d never forgive myself.

Hours must have passed after I finally settled on the floor, a pillow under my head near the front door in case I heard a sound and fell sleep. I don’t know how long I slept, but a sudden noise from the apartment upstairs woke me with a start. Groggy, without thinking I automatically opened the door to robotically call his name.


I felt something pass across my feet. When I looked down I saw him casually walk inside and head for the kitchen and food. In my wild frenzy, I picked Maozer up and held him close to make sure he was real. Make sure I wasn’t dreaming. He was here. He was safe. He found his way back.

I looked at the clock. It was nine o’clock.


From Maozer (in Spirit now)

Spirit Friends and Me



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