Figaro's Miracle

Figaro is Alice the cat's son. I named him Figaro because he has a remarkable physical resemblance to the cat Figaro in Disney's film Pinnochio. He has a similar temperament as well.

Figaro, from the time he first opened his eyes, thought Dominique was his mother. When Dominique died, he sat in the rocker in the living room and barely moved. For weeks. Luckily, he also always thought that I was his other parent. Since Dominique left for other realms he has rarely left my side except to sit on the picnic table during the summer, where he can effortlessly watch me work in the garden. In the winter he lies next to me on the couch, or stretches out on pillows by the coal stove a few feet away from me. He sleeps next to me at night, either on his back or on his side, with his head on the pillow next to mine, and often he is under the covers with me. It's a huge relationship, and bluntly put, he's the apple of my eye.

We were still renting on Buffalo Street when Figaro was hit by a car. He was hiding under the front porch when I came home from the television studio, and it took quite a bit of time to coax him out. I was not pleased with what I saw. There was much damage - blood, his jaw was hanging from his face, he obviously had a fractured skull and his eyes were already very swollen and bulging out of his head. He looked worse than Nell had.

I called a veterinarian friend and described his condition over the phone. She said she'd be right over. Meanwhile I gently carried him into my downstairs bedroom, and put him on the bed. We prayed, from the heart, and immediately. I asked Christ to heal my little Figaro. I also added hands-on healing for his head and jaw, and spoke to him inwardly, and Figaro began to relax. I mentally sent him everything I could think of, including homeopathic remedies. What was most touching, was that Figaro not only welcomed and trusted the healing I was sending him, he actually seemed to expect it. If I could read his little mind it might sound something like this: He had been hit by a car, he was very injured, and therefore I would have to heal him and he hoped that I would do it quickly.

My friend arrived soon after, took one look at him and said " He needs to go to the clinic right now. " By this time in Life I had seen enough miracles to know one could easily happen - but my friend insisted that Figaro go to the animal hospital immediately, and I did not want to take chances with Figaro's life. Once the correct physical solution is offered, it is often best to take it, for God Himself might have sent it. " All right. " I answered, " Just give me some time with him first. " She agreed to wait five or ten minutes. Figaro and I prayed to Mary together, and then we took him to the hospital. When I returned home I continued asking for and sending healing. By the time the X Rays were developed there were no fractures - his skull and his jaw were fine. They kept him two nights and then called me the third day. They were watching him - his head was fine, but he wasn't eating. He had lost three pounds and they were worried. I said, " He's not sick, he's not eating because he wants to come home. " My friend the veterinarian brought him home and he ate an entire can of Purina cat food the moment he walked in the door. She said, " I should have believed you. We shouldn't have taken him to the clinic. " And she insisted on paying all the bills, which amounted to some hundreds of dollars.

These miracles are not the end-all of prayer. But miracles can win devotees. After this incident, whenever I say an Ave Maria, Figaro comes over and lies beside me, even if his little head was in his crunchies bowl when I began the prayer. Sometimes he puts his hand on my heart while I am praying to Our Lady. He is entirely devoted to Her, and this is the true miracle.