Seeking Enlightenment — How My Cats Taught Me the Art of Zen
A tribute to surrender and presence
My passion is facilitating end-of-life support for animals. I deeply love my work: being able to support and guide my animal clients and their guardians through this sacred time.
Over the years, many elderly dogs have joined our household. They received a makeover and lots of love and eventually passed with dignity.
My cats — there are three of them — have lived with me for a long time. They have watched every dog’s decline and eventual death and remained serene witnesses. They continued to take care of their own business.
My cats have always known that they are divine. They seem to remember being worshiped in ancient Egypt once. They lounge, meditate, groom each other, and eat their favorite food, which they can change on a whim.
I love them to pieces. I obey them, and I adore them.
Then, one day, things changed, just like that. Wait! What? No, this is not possible.
Cancer! One of my cats got diagnosed with cancer. How can this be? My cats are deities, and they are immortal. My cats never die. They are not supposed to. But physically, they are actually old now. Old cats - wowza! I didn’t see that one coming.
And before I know it, my cancer cat’s companion stops eating. Three weeks into our new reality, she’s diagnosed with kidney failure. Nowadays, it’s called chronic kidney disease because that sounds better. The truth is that her kidneys are failing. Badly. Irreversibly.
Then, cat number three starts vomiting every night, always on my white wool throw so that I can find it. You guessed right; he did not throw up any hairballs. Turns out that he also suffers from a severe and fatal disease.
Bam! All three of them. We now have a special cat nursing station with injectables, fluids, and many oral medications and supplements.
Some friends feel sorry for me and wonder whether I can still provide hospice support for my clients. Perhaps I should take a break? NO! I love doing my work.
Like many of you, I am in the trenches. My cats were always there. Always.
I grieve this new reality. I research their illnesses. There are moments of utter defeat, but the cats and I do what needs to be done. Anyone who a cat has ever owned knows that things happen on their terms. Period.
My cats have decided to go along for the ride and patiently accept fluids and injections; however, they take oral medications only occasionally. We are getting acquainted with the new normal that their bodies will eventually give out.
Me? I need to walk my talk, a step at a time, and care for them and myself. What is my biggest lesson, you ask? I know it sounds corny, but I am grateful for everything I’m experiencing. I am thankful that these divine creatures are in my life and continue doing things exactly how they CHOOSE.
Their decision to participate in this journey has slowly led to one of the most significant crossroads of our lives. Does it make me a better human? Yes, I think so. It humbles me.
Shortly after I wrote about my beautiful cats, they gracefully exited to travel the mystic realms and chase birds in the sky.
My Bodhi, aka Bodhisattva, the seeker of enlightenment, was the first one. He was also known as the biker dude, a former neighborhood gang member. He was a fierce and intimidating presence in the hood and a total softy in my home.
Three months later, the most beautiful cat in America, my sweetie boy Marlo, passed away in his sleep. Nobody knew how handsome he was because he chose to hide from people throughout his lifetime and only came out when we were home alone. He was the biggest and most gentle of the three cats.
Six weeks after Marlo died, his soulmate, the queen of my house, the incomparable Moopy, decided that it was her time to transition. She was small but oh-so mighty and owned the place. Moopy named herself — a name that is nowhere to be found in the dictionary — and taught all the animals who lived and died in my home the most profound lessons and took them under her tutelage, dogs and cats alike.
She was the embodiment of a high priestess. I am still her pupil.
Cats are my teachers. They are my Zen masters.
©️ Ute Luppertz 2025
Newly edited and beautified, previously published on Medium
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A refreshing and touching piece, Ute. Loved how you described each cat with such love and detail!
Your essay melted my heart. I've had several pets in my life and just got a new one after finally having the courage to face the eventual death of a dear companion. What you do is admirable. Bless you!💚