From Trauma to Trust: The Healing Journey of Two Cats (And Us Too)
What Bart & Sissy Taught Us About Healing, Awakening, and Becoming Who You’re Meant To Be
When Bart and Sissy showed up at our house last June, they weren’t strays.
They had people. They had a porch. They had a life.
But they didn’t have consistency.
They didn’t have reliable food.
They didn’t have safety — not the steady, dependable kind.
Their meals likely vanished nightly to raccoons, foxes, and whatever else roamed the neighborhood. Their shelter was the open air. Their survival depended on alertness, not trust.
And when their people left town without making a feeding plan, hunger pushed them farther than they’d ever gone.
They arrived thin, tired, and desparate for stability.
They didn’t need rescuing.
They needed refuge.
They moved in that day — and that’s when everything changed.
Slowly at first, then all at once, we began to see the shifts:
the softening, the trusting, the subtle ways their bodies relaxed and their routines reshaped themselves around the safety they had never known.
Meal times became moments of joy instead of frantic survival. Brush time turned into bonding. Warmth became something they could count on, not chase. And the more secure they felt, the more they let their true selves emerge — playful, affectionate, expressive.
And Bart, especially, began showing us just how much his world had changed.
Bart the Provider — When Survival Turns Into Belonging
Lately, Bart has been bringing gifts — chipmunks and squirrels, sometimes alive, sometimes not. He carries them proudly, meowing through full jaws to announce his arrival, then lays the catch right at our feet.
This is a profound shift from the Bart he used to be.
Once, long before he lived with us, he crossed our path with a chipmunk in his mouth. He looked straight at us, meowed as if declaring, “this is mine,” and sprinted away to protect his catch. His hunting was survival.
Now he brings his catches home.
Not out of hunger.
Not out of need.
Out of connection.
He drops the prey in front of us — never Sissy — a cat’s way of saying:
“This is my family now.”
He still hunts fiercely, powerful on his three legs, but the meaning has transformed. Where there was once instinct and scarcity, there is now offering and belonging.
And between hunts, he has softened more than we ever imagined.
He melts under brush time, collapses joyfully into gentle pets, and completely loses composure when someone scratches his chin on the side where his missing leg can’t reach, we call it his "kryptonite".
And yet, even with all this softening, Bart hasn’t lost that thread of wildness that once kept him alive. It’s still there — not as fear, but as energy. When he gets really into the brushing or when someone scratches his chin, he becomes so overstimulated with joy that he’ll sometimes grab your sleeve or your hand with his front paws. He doesn’t mean to snag you — he simply forgets how strong he is, and how delicate human skin can be compared to the life he lived before. It’s not aggression; it’s instinct meeting affection. A reminder that he’s still part wild, still wired for survival, still carrying echoes of the life he lived before he was safe.
And somehow, that makes his softness even more profound.
In those moments, Bart goes from hunter to puddle.
From survivor to loved companion.
From guarded to open.
This is transformation —
the kind that only happens in the presence of safety.
The Walkers — Choosing Connection Without Being Asked
Another shift we never expected: both Bart and Sissy now walk with us.
Not together — their rhythms are very different — but each in their own expressive way.
Sissy glides along the edges of yards, keeping close but never stepping into the street.
She follows at a distance, then trots ahead, then lingers, always aware, always tuned in.
It’s her quiet form of connection — confident but cautious, affectionate but observant.
Bart barrels straight down the road, his signature sidewinding three-legged run propelling him after us. He rushes to catch up, passes us boldly, sits down to wait, and then does it again.
Run, sit, wait.
Run, sit, wait.
Cats do nothing out of obligation.
They join you because they want to.
Because the bond matters.
Because something in them feels safe enough to walk beside you.
Their walks say, without words:
“We trust you enough to go where you go.”
That is healing — expressed in footsteps, side steps, and sprinting passes.
The Catnasium — A Sanctuary for Rest, Play, and Becoming
The garage has become more than shelter.
It’s now a cat sanctuary — or as we lovingly call it, the catnasium.
One half is a human gym.
The other half is their studio apartment — a place designed with intention, warmth, and stability.
It includes:
The $100 cat house Sissy finally loves, stuffed with blankets
The old luggage bed, surprisingly their favorite
A cat tree just for Sissy’s climbs and scratches
The Bartalounger — a stargazer chair with layers of blankets
A thick, plush rug covering the cold floor
A space heater that turns winter nights into cozy retreats
And a blackout curtain that blocks the draft while the side door stays cracked for their freedom
It is warm.
It is soft.
It is peaceful.
And it is theirs.
A place where they can sleep deeply, not lightly the way outdoor cats must.
A place where they can stretch without bracing for danger.
A place where they can eat, rest, play, and simply be.
And now?
They love mealtime, brush time, pets, chin rubs, and especially when we sit on the rug with them. The heater has become the new center of connection — a little sun in the middle of their sanctuary.
They are full.
Sissy with her softened, rounded belly.
Bart with the healthy fullness of a cat who no longer starves or scatters.
Their bodies show what their hearts already know:
They are safe. They are loved. They are home.
And This Is Where Their Journey Becomes Ours
Humans are not so different.
We don’t awaken while bracing for the next hit.
We don’t manifest while living in survival mode.
We don’t expand while our nervous system is clenched in fear.
We heal when we feel safe.
We awaken when we feel held.
We manifest when we feel at home.
Safety softens us.
Softening opens us.
Opening awakens us.
Awakening expands us.
Expansion becomes creation.
That’s the journey Bart and Sissy have been on.
And it’s the journey every human on a path to awakening must walk:
From guarding → to trusting
From surviving → to belonging
From fear → to freedom
From scarcity → to overflowing abundance
When you finally feel safe, you stop running.
You stop hiding.
You stop needing the old identity that protected you.
You lean in.
You soften.
You receive.
You create.
Just like Bart.
Just like Sissy.
Just like anyone who moves from trauma to transformation.
Ready to Step Into Your Own Safe, Courageous Becoming?
If you’re on the verge of your own breakthrough — sensing the shift inside you but not sure how to fully step into it — our free masterclass is your next step.
It shows you how to break toxic patterns, heal at the root, and become the coach and creator you're meant to be — safe, awake, abundant, and aligned.
Because you don’t need rescuing.
You need refuge.
And you deserve a home — inside yourself — where your true power can rise.
