Bob wasn’t always Bob.

In fact, when she came into my life in 2017, she had a completely different name, a very big motor-purr, and a lot of invisible baggage for such a tiny body.

She was about 6-ish weeks old when she was adopted after being rescued from a not-great situation (the details are heavy, so we’ll skip those for today). She landed in a house with four other cats, and for the first year of her life, that was her world.

Then in 2018, everything changed.

I moved. A partnership ended. Her environment shrank. Suddenly she had one cat friend and a new dog friend, and while nothing was wrong exactly… Bob didn’t really shine. She existed. She blended. She hovered quietly on the edges of the household.

Back then, her name was Harley — because as a baby she purred so loudly her whole body rattled like a motorcycle. (Very cute. Very clever. Very much not her.)

Harley, the name, never really fit.

Enter: Bob 🚗

One thing that did light her up early on was… cars.

Yes. Cars.

Between 2020–2024, I worked about an hour away from home, and Bob became my tiny commuter companion for a long while in that time frame. She rode shotgun. She hung out in my office during the day (approved workplace pet, thank you very much). She learned the routine so well that when we got home, I’d open the passenger door and she’d run ahead of me, confidently leading the way like, “This is my home. You may follow.”

That was one of the first places I saw her real personality peek out.

Over time, with routines and rewards, Bob started learning. Not just tricks — but communication. Cause and effect. Trust. Choice.

And then… she became Bob.

Changing her name was a massive turning point. When she became Bob, something clicked. She felt right. She felt home.

The Queen of Routines
(and the Backyard)

Bob thrives on structure — and also gentle freedom.

She’s allowed outside in our backyard (yes, unsupervised). She’s 8½ years old, incredibly smart… and hilariously bad at jumping. She’s been doing this for years and treats the outdoors like a seasonal luxury experience.

She only goes out on nice days.
She asks by crying at the back door.
We tell her, “Make good choices.”

She usually heads straight to her favorite bush. Sometimes the grass. Sometimes she patrols like a tiny security guard. Once she killed a rat. Another time she brought us a lizard. (We said thank you. With feelings.)

And here’s the part that still blows my mind:
When she’s ready to come in?

She scratches at the door.
Every. Single. Time.

We didn’t teach that.
We just noticed it… and rewarded it.

Bob is living proof that animals rise to the level of trust, clarity, and respect we offer them.

The Poop Factory Era
(Yes, We’re Going There)

Bob is also the smartest cat in the house — largely because of the routines we’ve built with her, alongside animal communication and energy work.

When I began my Soul Level Animal Communication journey last November, Bob became my most frequent practice partner.

And everything evolved, once more.

When I listened past her behavior and into what she actually needed, the house softened.

But, still one of Bob’s early readings hit me hard. The reader felt physically angry in her body — and I thought, yes, that’s her. That’s the Bob I’ve always known.

Her most recent reading this past weekend?

Silly.
Goofy.
Unapologetically Bob.

Add in energy healing and chakra balancing, and her joy became undeniable. She greets my partner at the door. She demands head rubs. She has a “Spot of the Week” where she chooses a new favorite place weekly in the house to lounge around.

She’s not muted anymore.
She knows dinner time to the minute.
She knows that when I reach for my glasses in the morning, it’s food o’clock.

And she has mastered what we lovingly call The Poop Factory.

After a very intense chapter of pooping outside the litter box, we landed on a solution that worked for her; enter The Poop Factory. Every night, Bob gets dinner in her kennel with her litter box and isn’t allowed out until she goes.

And she goes.
Usually quickly.

She has also learned how to fake us out so she can gain early freedom.

Yes. She lies.
Yes. She’s brilliant.

The Lesson Bob Keeps Teaching Me

Bob went from a quiet, almost invisible cat to the Queen of the Household.

Not because we controlled her — but because we finally heard her.

She reminds me every day that:

boundaries are real and valuable
routines create safety
and letting your quirks show is what sets you free

Her journey mirrors my own more than I ever expected. And watching her step fully into herself has been truly special.

Often, I check in with her energetically and feel a tiny shift — a release, a softening, a recalibration — and I still think:

Oh… so we’re doing tiny miracles today? Cute.

And honestly?
I wouldn’t have it any other way. 🐾💫