The Cat, A Vase, and A Burglar: A Tale of Divine Protection

by Dana Taylor

Listen now!

Crash! The unmistakable sound of breaking glass grabbed my attention as I wiped down the elegant kitchen marble counter tops that October day last fall. I turned around in time to see our five-month-old Bengal kitten, Shadow, high tail out of the living room and disappear up the second story stairs to her hide out. Drat that cat! Of course I quickly blamed myself for not removing the beautiful blue and gold scalloped vase from the mantle in the first place. She was growing everyday, leaping and exploring her new home. I sheepishly dreaded having to tell my housemate and home owner, Connie, that her lovely vase now lay in smithereens across the shiny hardwood floor because of my carelessness. Of course, I could put that off, as Connie was currently on vacation in Italy, far away from this house on the hills of San Jose, CA.


Frankly, at the time of the vase break, I was a bit miffed at my spirit guides for not telling me to remove it. It had crossed my mind and yet I had not taken that simple precaution and saved the vase. I’m an intuitive, sensing guides and angels ever around me, helping me navigate the daily functions of life. I rely on their guidance for everything from parking spots to knowing the exact day to place a Craigslist ad in the San Jose area for a place to stay in the middle of a pandemic. Connie just “happened” to browse the listings checking out kitten postings. She got me that day instead of a cat. It would be several months before Shadow joined the household. People remark on my “magical” life. At the moment of the crashing glass, it seemed the guides had let me down.

As it turned out, allowing the vase to break, may have saved my life.

Two nights later, I had finished dinner, cleaned the kitchen and headed up to my room. Being alone in the house, I had turned off all the downstairs lights. My room faced the street and was the only lighted area. By 9 pm I had changed to pj’s and set up my I-pad in the landing at the top of stairs in front of my bedroom doing some yoga. I had turned off the bright overhead lights, preferring the softer light through my bedroom door. Suddenly, my Boho Beautiful routine of stretches and zen poses was rudely interrupted by the sound of breaking glass from downstairs.

What is that cat doing now?, I thought. Cascades of breaking glass kept falling and falling. Good grief. Has that cat toppled the television? Is she running amuck sending artwork flying across the living room? Infuriated, I headed toward the stairs. Just as I reached the first step, the figure of a man rounded the dark corner, about to mount the stairs.

Without forethought, I assumed an Incredible Hulk stance and bellowed, “GET OUT!!” followed by deep growls. Truly, I sounded positively demonic. Guttural roars continued even after he had turned around and dashed away like the proverbial bat out of hell. I only quieted after I heard a car tear off down the street.

I stood at the top of stairs, blinking. Did that just happen? Have I just scared away a burglar? To say “something came over me,” is an understatement. In that moment when I saw that guy, I felt big and powerful. Like I could Kick His Ass.

The rest of the evening unfurled with efficient aid and protection. I’d recently gotten the phone number of a helpful neighbor, Mike. He answered my call immediately. When I said there had been a break-in, he replied, “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

Mike helped me deal with the police I’d called and then he boarded up the gaping hole in the French door. Mike is a real stand-up guy.


I also had a key to the unoccupied house of my daughter’s in-law’s home a mile away, so I didn’t have to sleep in the invaded house again. Looking back, I can see Grace and Provision every step along the way of the whole episode.

I think back on that experience with wonder. All in all, it was empowering to know I won’t fall apart in a crisis. My guides and angels totally came through. One theory about such things is that certain events have high probabilities in The Field as they get closer in time. The breaking vase two days earlier planted an assumption of a mischievous cat in my mind, not a scary home invading robber.

Had my guides seen the potential break-in and allowed, or even encouraged, the cat to break the vase and thus, set up my mindset? And who or what came through me as I took command at the top of the stairs?

You might be wondering if the police found the culprits. Maybe. The thieves’ activities in the neighborhood were captured on several security cameras and pieced together, which included reading a license plate from the car. I’m hoping maybe I scared the would-be burglar away from a life of crime. One can always hope.

In any case, I am grateful to my spiritual team for their guidance and support. And I’m especially grateful to that naughty cat for breaking the vase.

Buddy’s Kitty Miracle

I really thought Buddy was a goner. My ten-year-old tuxedo cat walked in the house three nights ago and looked radically different. His walk wobbled and his coat looked oddly spikey. His eyes telegraphed pain.

“Buddy, what’s wrong?” I asked. Of course, he didn’t answer, but he didn’t eat any dinner either, so I knew something was amiss. I  thought “stones,” knowing cats can develop painful blockages in their kidneys or bladders.

I immediately picked up the phone and alerted the Supernal Friends, “Pray for Buddy!”

If you’ve read Ever-Flowing Streams (and why haven’t you?), you’ll know I believe in pro-active prayer and I have a lovely team of friends that join me in this pursuit.  The following afternoon I received a call from Helen, the gifted healer featured in “Streams.”

She said, “I’m afraid Buddy has stones in the urinary tract.”

Helen worked several years in an emergency vet hospital and has a lot of experience with sick animals. She warned me that his condition is very painful. She told me I could tell if his bladder was obstructed by feeling for a hard ball near his belly. Worst case scenario, the bladder would burst and cause an excruciating death. Together we agreed that given his age and the expense of IV’s and catheter treatment, my kindest solution was probably to put Buddy down.

Sitting in my backyard, with the sun shining and the birdies singing, I contemplated a sad trip in the morning to a vet. So, I did what a girl naturally does, I decided to get a haircut. If I was going to kill my cat, at least I would look good.

When I returned from the beauty shop, neatly trimmed, Buddy was lying on the warm concrete beside the pool. I went outside and petted him. He softly purred, but didn’t have much energy to move. I poked around his belly and found a hard lump, somewhat smaller than a golf ball. Poor Buddy’s bladder was completely blocked.

So, then I did the only thing I knew to do–I prayed. I laid my hands on Buddy’s flanks, opened the energy centers in my head and hands and prayed from the heart, “Please help my cat.” I allowed the spirit language I received long ago to flow, along with the healing energy and loving intention to bring Buddy relief. Sometimes prayer power simply kicks in and goes beyond human explanation. This was one of those moments. My prayer language expanded, chanting and flowing, as the buzz of the healing frequencies vibrated my hands. Both Buddy and I jumped a few times with the spurts of energy pouring through us. Sitting on the warm concrete, with the sky turning sunset colors, Buddy and I shared a heavenly moment.  The experience lasted about ten minutes.  The phrases subsided; the energy decreased.

I patted him on the head and returned to the house. An hour later, I looked out the living room window and saw Buddy still lying where I’d left him. I did a double take–a river of fluid appear to be flowing from his hind quarters. Had his bladder burst? Opening the screen door, I approached him with trepidation. His body was intact; he was alive and leaking urine like a Betsy Wetsy doll. Good grief! Who knew a cat could hold so much fluid? I massaged his belly, causing even more flow.

“Wow, Buddy. I think you are a kitty miracle.” He then stood up and wobbled over to his water bowl and drank for the first time in two days.

That evening, he continued to be an incontinent cat. He clawed on the screen door to come into the house. “Buddy,” I said. “I can’t have you dripping cat pee all over my house. I’m sorry.” Then he gave my that sad-green eyed look, ala, Puss in Boots. I relented and let him in. The carpets need to be cleaned anyway.

Being a gentleman, he walked directly to my bathroom and planted himself there, as if to say, “I won’t mess up your house. You can wash this carpet.” He stayed there all night long.

Another day has gone by. He is drinking water, lapping a little broth from his canned cat food and soaking up the rays by the pool. He’s obviously more comfortable. I know he won’t live forever; he’s getting on in years. This crisis may hasten his demise. But, for now, he is my living testament that the power of Love is at our finger tips if we just learn how to channel it and allow it to flow through us.

Buddy lives on.


Update 2015: Buddy continued as my favorite feline friend until he gently passed away under my hands over Thanksgiving of 2013. Best. Cat. Ever.