Platinum coat with bright blue eyes, highly intelligent, a lover cat, a friend, was put down to sleep after almost reaching his 16th birthday. Family matters and stuff happening on the homefront may be all part of being in the PC, but boy is it tough to lose something near and dear when you're so far away. He may just have been a cat to those reading, but Nikko was profoundly much more than that to me. His life wrote a chapter in my soul's book---he always had something to say, and it was hard getting the last word in. I've never been around a cat so smart---he was clearly an intellectual conversationalist---just ask anyone in my neighborhood, they all heard Nikko's running commentary on life. I think they also wondered how we ever got any sleep.
I hadn't known of Nikko's passing, as I was in Lesotho, but strangely enough, within a few hours of Nikko's departure, a tall man with blue eyes, quirky and smart features, and a warm and fuzzy personality approached and began chatting with me for quite awhile. It was funny how easily we talked, laughed, and connected. Afterwards, the man took my hand so warmly in both of his, stared deeply into my eyes for what seemed an eternity, and stated "my name is Nikko."
This occurrence was Divine Intervention with a definite synchronicity to it, because had I not chosen to do the trip to Lesotho, I might not have had the opportunity to meet Nikko the gentleman, who clearly was the vehicle to which my Nikko chose to say good bye and thank you. It was such a special gift that I'll embrace the rest of my life, especially because over the miles and a year of being gone, our deep connection apparently never left.
And so, as death is a part of life's unfolding story, and as I sit and cry, trying to compose my thoughts and feelings, my aspirations and my dreams, I pay this little tribute to Nikko---a beautiful boy who touched my life.