When Bart and Sissy arrived that June, they weren’t true strays—they had people, but not genuine safety. Food came and went, shelter was unpredictable. It wasn’t neglect in an extreme sense—just the sort of distracted care that leaves love unfinished.

When their people left town with no apparent feeding plan, hunger compelled them to try our house down the road. Bart, the roamer, led the way. Sissy, usually cautious and homebound, followed—a rare act of desperation.

They moved in here with us. And what has unfolded since is more than recovery—it’s rebirth.

Sissy: Learning to Receive Love

At first, Sissy flinched at affection. If you touched her too long, she’d lash out—not from aggression, but from reflex. Her body still held memory of survival without softness.

But slowly... she’s learning. She purrs gently, gazing up at you with those luminous eyes that whisper, I want to trust you. I’m trying. She rubs her body against your leg, kneads with purpose, and even allows you to stroke her back—so long as she’s standing. If she flops over, you better read the room.

She teaches us this: safety and vulnerability aren't given—they are learned, bit by bit, through presence and patience.

Bart’s Walks: From Edge of Driveway to Side-by-Side

Bart, on the other hand, moved in a different arc. He started by watching us. One evening, as we walked out past the driveway, he followed to the edge and began meowing at us, as though to say: Wait—I want to come with you.

The next time we walked, he ran beside us in his slightly side-winding three-legged way. Then something lovely happened—he would tip his head, meow, and catch up. Now, without fail, when he sees us ambling down the path, he meows and wants to go with us.

This shift—from reluctant follower to companion walker—speaks volumes about transformation. Bart didn’t just adjust; he chose expansion. He reimagined his world from: I survive here → I walk in new territory, side by side with others.

What They Teach Us About Healing & Transformation

• Survival-mode holds us in small worlds. Both cats came from systems where resources were erratic and safety uncertain. Sissy’s flinch, Bart’s initial distance—they are echoes of “just getting by.”

• Freedom grows when we walk beside possibility. When Bart stepped out, he didn’t just survive the walk—he claimed it. He said, “Yes—I can be part of this journey.”

• Love, trust, creative power—they all rebuild in the light of presence. Sissy allows instead of flinches. Bart engages instead of isolates. Their internal landscapes expand.

For Coaches, Healers & Transformation Guides

When you work with people—especially those who’ve grown up in systems that didn’t respect their voice, their boundary, their possibility—you are witnessing echoes of Sissy and Bart.

• Some clients are flinching at trust. They still expect love to be conditional.

• Others are walking the edge, watching you walk, unsure if they have permission to come along.

• Your role is not just to fix them. It’s to invite them: to walk together, to show them the path out of the small world.

• And maybe most importantly—to model the freedom you wish for them. Bart didn’t see it at first; he followed and then became it. You can walk it while he watches—and walks with you.

Your Call

Look at the places in your life where you are still in survival mode. Where you are still on the outside, meowing from the edge of the driveway, “Wait for me.”
What would it look like if you started to walk? If you tip your head, meow your truth, and then catch up?
What territory could you claim if you shifted from surviving to walking side-by-side with your possibility?

If this story of Bart and Sissy resonates—if you feel the stir of walking out of the old, surviving world into new terrain—I’d like to invite you to join my free masterclass: “The 4-Step Method to Break Toxic Cycles & Become the Coach You Were Meant to Be.”

Reserve your spot here and walk with us into a wider world of your own possibility.