Five years ago my neighbor buried her veteran husband and was left completely alone. It had been five years since MadameRenée lost her spouse, a former soldier, and found herself utterly solitary. The couple had never had children, and the elderly lady could not stop thinking about her beloved Marcel.
They had wed just before the war. Marcel went off to fight while faithful Renée waited patiently. He returned alive but without his left hand. He loved his wife deeply and had promised to shield her from any misfortune, yet he could not keep that vow. He died, leaving her utterly alone.
On the anniversary of his death, a large black cat appeared at her door. It showed up in the dead of night, meowing plaintively out of nowhere. A snowstorm raged, the wind howled outside, yet somehow MadameRenée heard the cries. She opened the door and found the unfamiliar feline. Moved by pity, she let it in and offered a little milk.
The cat refused the milk, strutted proudly through the rooms, inspected the house, and finally settled on MadameRenées pillow, began to purr, and fell asleep instantly.
Renée could not bring herself to shoo the cat away and fell asleep alongside it. In the morning she examined the animal more closely. It was clean, wellfed, and looked nothing like a stray. Black as ebony, with huge green eyes and a confident bearing, it bore a striking detail: its left front paw was missing its toes, as if they had been torn off.
My dear Marcel! she sobbed. The cat, meanwhile, gently leapt onto her lap and started to purr.
I must give you a name perhaps Felix? she whispered while petting its ear. The cat twitched and stared at her with such intensity that Renée was taken aback.
THEIR EYES WERE HUMAN! NOT like human eyes, BUT ACTUALLY human!
I see, Felix doesnt suit you. How about Theo? Thats a nice name! she hurriedly suggested. The cat hissed in displeasure, jumped from her lap, and began clawing at the couch.
Fine, fine. I wont name you. Youll just be the Cat. But please leave the couch alone, she politely demanded. The Cat muttered something indecipherable, obeyed, and retreated dignified into the bedroom.
Thus began their life together: MadameRenée and the Cat. I often visited the old lady, and she recounted incredible stories about her feline companion.
First, the Cat tended to her. After her husbands death, Renée suffered a heart attack and frequently felt chest pain. Whenever she lay down, the Cat would curl onto her chest, purr, and fall asleep, and the pain vanished as if it had never existed.
One truly odd episode occurred later. Renée was lying down to rest, the Cat asleep beside her, when there was a knock at the door. She rose to answer, the Cat following her. It was Robert, the local drunk and troublemaker. He jammed his foot in the doorway, cursed loudly, and demanded money for a drink. Renée tried to refuse, but he grew more insistent and rude, eventually insulting her and profaning the memory of her late husband.
Suddenly the Cat let out a growl and lunged at the man. Robert pushed it away, but the Cat came back, almost biting his throat. Cursing, Robert lost his footing and fled. The Cat looked at Renée with its HUMAN EYES, lifted its tail proudly, and withdrew, its duty fulfilled.
Another day Renée prepared to go to the town hall for firewood and asked me to accompany her. We would need to take the bus to the district capital. I agreed, freed myself from work, and arrived at her house early in the morning.
The old woman sat on the bed in her housecoat, looking bewildered and uneasy.
MadameRenée, why arent you ready? Lets get going; maybe we can find a ride, I urged.
My dear, I wont leave. Im sorry, she whispered.
Why?
I dont know how to say this dont laugh The Cat forbade me to go.
What? Ive taken the day off and youre talking about your cat! Come on! I protested.
Listen, I had everything prepared the night before and fell asleep. In my dream the Cat spoke to me, just as you do now He looked at me and said:
Stay home, Renée. Dont go tomorrow.
My tongue got tied! It wasnt just the Cat talking; he called me Renée! Thats exactly how my late Marcel used to call me! And the Cats voice was Marcels voice! Then the Cat sang the song Marcel loved:
In the hinterland fields,
Where they search for gold in the mountains
Do you remember, little Renée, I sang it when I went to the front?
Even so, I mustered the courage to ask:
Marcel, is that you?!
Methodically, yes! I see how hard it is for you alone, so Ive returned
Tell Lucie not to go through with the operation. She wouldnt survive
And I woke up
To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I remained silent for a long while, trying to catch my breath like a fish out of water.
Then a thought occurred to me:
MadameRenée, are you feeling alright? Perhaps we should call emergency services? Your blood pressure must be high.
I feel better than ever, dear! I just talked with my Marcel! she answered, smiling through tears.
I still checked her pulse; surprisingly, it was normal.
From then on Renée began calling her cat Marcel, and oddly enough, it responded immediately to that name!
Her (or the Cats) predictions came true. The bus we intended to catch nearly crashed that day. Ice coated the road, the driver lost control, and although no one died, many were injured. Coincidence? Perhaps. A week later Renée finally received her firewood.
She asked me to phone Lucie, Marcels niece, to tell her to cancel her surgery. Lucie ignored the warning and died on the operating table
ANOTHER COINCIDENCE?! I dont think so.
Thus they lived together: MadameRenée and her cat Marcel. He continued to heal and protect her, staying by her side until her final days.
Renée lived to be ninetyfour, passing away last year. Until the very end she remained strong, constantly worrying about her Marcel. She had made me promise to look after him if she ever disappeared.
She slipped away peacefully in her sleep, without pain
I recall how Marcel the cat mourned her. He was no longer young; his sleek black coat had turned white.
For the three days that her body lay at home, Marcel never left the coffin. I EVEN SAW TEARS STREAM FROM HIS EYES! People tried to shoo him away, but inexplicably he always returned to the casket, sitting and weeping.
Marcel accompanied the deceased to the grave, and when she was buried he stayed there. I tried to catch the poor animal to bring him home, but he fled.
The cat remained at the cemetery, on the tomb of MadameRenée and her husband. He would not come to me, though I visited daily to feed him.
I worried how he would survive the winter there and tried to force him back home. Once I succeeded, but he escaped the same day, and I found Marcel back at the gravesite.
Winter was harsh, yet the cat survived. He died early spring. When I came to feed him as usual, I found him curled beside MadameRenées cross, seemingly keeping watch over her resting place.
I cannot say whether Marcel was an ordinary cat or the spirit of the late grandfather Marcel truly incarnated within him
Today many speak of reincarnationthat in a next life a soul may become anyone, even a cat.
I dont know if thats possible, but for some reason I like to believe that Grandfather Marcels spirit lived inside that feline shell. He returned to his dear Renée to protect and save her
And he stayed with her until the end, just as he had promised.
Five Years Ago, My Neighbour Laid Her Veteran Husband to Rest and Found Herself All Alone.
