Our cat got sick yesterday, had to go to the emergency room, was sedated, had blood work done and an ultrasound. Traumatic? Yes. He hadn’t been to a vet in eight years because he bites doctors. They’re all afraid of him. Then this.
Thankfully, he was fine. I brought him upstairs and let him out of the carrier. He went under the bed and stood there nearly motionless from 4 PM until 9 AM the next day.
He swiveled his head from side to side, tracking things with eyes that were blank disks. He made no sound. I spoke to him, reassuring the body under the bed from time to time during the night. It was clear that he’d left his body under the bed until he came back for it. His body was there but not the being. He had left his body.
Cats are the original mystics.