Soul­mates re­united by mys­tery an­gels

I met my soul mate on hol­i­day – a cat! Jo Bald­win, 35, from West Mid­lands

Chat It's Fate - - Contents -

My boyfriend flew home - and out of my life!

My face lit up. ‘Look at that kit­ten,’ I said. ‘Dunk­ing his paw in the wa­ter.’

My bloke Carl* and I were ly­ing by the pool on hol­i­day in Mar­maris, Turkey. There were loads of feral cats milling about, but this par­tic­u­lar kit­ten had caught my eye.

‘It’s just a cat like any other,’ Carl said dis­mis­sively. Bit heart­less, I thought. That night, me and Carl went to a bar. We had a few drinks, and re­turned to the ho­tel.

As I walked past the pool, a teenage girl rushed up to me with the same kit­ten I’d seen ear­lier in her arms. There was some­thing about her aura that made me stop and pay at­ten­tion.

‘Please can you help this kit­ten – just look at the state of his poor eye!’ she gasped.

She was so com­pelling, and the poor lit­tle thing’s eye was so hor­ri­bly sore and swollen, that I found my­self say­ing, ‘OMG, of course I’ll help him’.

‘Prom­ise?’ said the girl, thrust­ing the cat into my arms.

‘I prom­ise,’ I said over the sound of Carl tut­ting ir­ri­ta­bly.


I kept the kit­ten in our ho­tel room overnight. Next morn­ing, I took him to the lo­cal phar­macy. I got him some eye drops and bought him a tin of tuna.

In the af­ter­noon, a kind cou­ple from Wolver­hamp­ton kept watch on him while we went on a boat trip.

But when we re­turned, the same girl who’d run to me be­fore was sit­ting by his side on a sun lounger.

‘Please help this kit­ten again,’ she begged. The poor mite was froth­ing at the mouth, his body limp.

I looked up the near­est vet on my smart­phone and took the kit­ten straight there.

‘That eye will have to come out if he’s to stand a chance,’ the vet said.

He re­moved the eye and cas­trated the cat.

The vet was called Emre, and as he’d saved the cat’s life, I de­cided to call the kit­ten Emre too.

I ex­tended my hol­i­day to stay with Emre while Carl flew home - and out of my life.

His lack of sym­pa­thy for this poor cat had com­pletely put me off him.

Ob­vi­ously, I wanted to take Emre back to the UK with me – but it wasn’t straight­for­ward. I re­turned to the UK for four months while the pa­per­work was done and Emre was quar­an­tined. He re­mained with the vet while I was away.


But I couldn’t wait. In Oc­to­ber, I flew back to visit him. I took him for walks on a lead. I’m a singer and mu­si­cian, and I sang him the song I’d writ­ten spe­cially for him.

‘Emre, Emre the cat, he’s been in a car, and been on a bus, but soon he is com­ing home – to us.’ On 17 De­cem­ber 2016, I headed

to Heathrow to pick up my cat. I was de­lighted to get him home – but he’d cost me two thou­sand pounds so far. And the ‘how much do you love your cat’ spir­its weren’t done with me. Not by a long chalk!

On 17 March 2017, Emre was hit by a car. I rushed him to the lo­cal vet. He said there was noth­ing he could do.

‘Take him home and he’ll die overnight,’ the vet told me.


Dev­as­tated, I took Emre home and held him in my arms while pray­ing to the an­gels to heal him.

I must have fallen asleep, be­cause at 2am I was wo­ken by Emre jump­ing on my head!

He licked my face, purring, then fell asleep cud­dled next to me. The an­gels had heard my plea.

Emre made a rapid re­cov­ery af­ter that – and for a while, life went smoothly.

Then, on 17 March 2018, Emre went miss­ing. I had a tracker on him, but I’d taken it off to change it for a more pow­er­ful one.

I put out an ap­peal on all the medi­ums – An­i­mal Search UK, my lo­cal Nextdoor web­site, Face­book – you name it. Heis­my­baby, I

wrote. I will search day and night un­til he comes back tome. And I did. Night af­ter night, I walked around the streets with a miner’s torch on my head. I searched fields and farms, sheds and barns, call­ing his name and singing our song. I’d changed one line, though.

‘Emre, Emre the cat, been hit by a car, and been on a bus, wher­ever you are, come home to us.’ When one of the peo­ple on Nextdoor said they thought they’d spot­ted him at a nearby lake, I headed there at once. I was wan­der­ing around, call­ing his name, when I heard a plain­tive miaow­ing. ‘Emre!’ I gasped. Fol­low­ing the sound, I scram­bled through barbed wire and ran down to the lake – where I found him float­ing on a piece of old drift­wood. ‘How did you man­age that?’ I scolded gen­tly as I lifted the furry bun­dle safely into my arms. I was so re­lieved to have him safe, I thanked all the an­gels – in hu­man and spir­i­tual form – for bring­ing him back to me.


Emre now has a new tracker - and I’ve made lots of new friends, and even had lots of offers of gigs! It’s just as well, as Emre’s cost me a for­tune and I need the money! But he’s worth it. He’s my cat of a life­time – my true soul mate. I of­ten won­der if the girl who brought him to me was an an­gel. There was some­thing ethe­real about her - and why was she so in­sis­tent that I take him on?

An­gels have def­i­nitely saved his life at least three times, too, so I’ve got a lot to thank them for.

It’s OK, though, be­cause by my cal­cu­la­tions Emre’s got at least five lives left!

I didn’t ex­pect to fall in love with a cat on hol­i­day but that trip to Turkey changed my life. Emre and I were def­i­nitely meant to find one an­other. Fate – and the an­gels – brought us to­gether.

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