Wednesday 10 October 2012

Post No. 407 - Our cats

One of the things which led to both my partner and I moving away from Christianity is the idiotic notion that animals don't have souls [2]. Now, I'm aware that they are simpler beings than humans (for instance, most cats have evolved only four or five chakras), but they have astrals, and that effectively means they have a "soul". I don't want to get into that debate particularly in this post, but I would like to put down some thoughts on the cats that we specifically have now.

I'll begin with Willow. Willow is a long haired explosion of fur, with white on his hind legs that make him look like he has pantaloons on - and hence one of his nicknames, M'sier Le Pantaloons. He also runs like a squirrel, so we call him Skeorr - which is my attempt at phonetic spelling for the Armenian word for squirrel - and he still likes to curl upon my pillow beside me, get into bags and go exploring. Still? Oh, he has been my cat once before, when he was Hazel.

Very hard for a creature without a soul to reincarnate, no?

Now, recognising past life connections is something that I have developed over the past three decades of that sort of work - it started when my BPF [1] Guides were showing me my past lives, and I had to learn to recognise myself. It includes checking with BPF Guides, but doing the sort of checks that are done when recognising a Tulku are not generally possible. I've also been on the receiving end of this, when one of my former night fighter pilot colleagues from the Second World War gave me a flight in a glider in the 80s, and recognised who I had been (I wasn't ready to acknowledge that, at the time, which is a shame).

When Willow was Hazel, he, then she, had come to me as a "second chance" cat, taken to a vet to be put down by a former owner, and saved by someone I knew at the time who worked at that vet, and who decided to find her a home. She was adventurous, affectionate, and had a sense of dignity. Now, he can still be very dignified at times (even looks like an owl, at times, when his Elizabethan ruffle sits just so) and tends to be "Mr Mum", looks after the other cats - plays boisterously with "Max", for instance. His arch-nemeis is Luna, but we'll get to her in due course.

I've posted photos of Willow on this blog. Here, for your convenience, is the Old Soul known now as Willow, formerly as Hazel, a soul with similarities but who has evolved since he was Hazel to become more compassionate.





In one of those photos you can see a short-haired orange cat: that is Willow's brother, from the same litter, Saffron. Saffron originally went to one of my nieces (both cats came from one of my sisters, who had around a dozen - maybe 13? - cats at the time), but when she became pregnant he was moved on to us. He is affectionate, addicted to pleasure, and has the horrible habit of eating so much so quickly (probably from having had so many lives as a stray) that he will throw up.

Saffron has made a few attempts at getting in to my life since I first met him, which was after I had been in a car accident in my late teens, and he came to sit on my lap to comfort me. His head was hanging off one end, and his back end off the other, and he had an enormous purr - still does, and has had every time I've met him. The next time he tried to get into my life was when I moved to Frankston in the late 80s. The neighbours cat, Zack, used to come over to visit, and would make himself quite at home, even during healing groups that I ran there, and then would race off home as soon as his owners called for him. I made a point of never feeding him, as I didn't want to confuse the issue of where his home was - more on that later. Saffron somehow pursuaded Zack to let him in to my house (yes, I know Zack didn't live with me, but it was "his" space), and he tried to persuade me to adopt him. I took him to a cat home for someone to find a home for. The same thing happened when I had Hazel, now Willow, in the early 90s, so I suspect Saffron from the 80s had been put down. It seems he found a home that time in the 90s, though - for at least a few years.

There hasn't been much change in his basically affectionate character, but he is very emotionally clingy - especially if he gets anywhere near my solar plexus chakra, where he tends to draw a lot of emotional energy. I can understand that, given the trauma he has been through in the past. Now, he is with me until he passes away naturally. Hopefully, that will heal him enough that he can start evolving in his next lives.

Now, we come to Honey B. She is disdainful, imperious, and has such a tendency to be overactive that I often greet her with "Hello Miss, how's the Mad Cat Business?" She is also a long haired cat, and at first I thought she might have been a friend's cat, Purrasia, but I've now recognised her as Susie.

Susie was a tough little grey fluff-ball who was adopted by a friend of mine who died of suicide in the early 2000s. She had a notable addiction to icecream, and when I ate an ice cream she would sit on my chest, purring, and slowly and inexorably getting closer and closer. She had also learned to master my firiend's German Shepherd, a much bigger creature, so she was tough. (A big part of that was her getting up higher than the dog, and she still likes to get up onto higher things.) Unfortunately, she was picked up by the Council, and, as my now ex-partner from that time wasn't really comfortable with having the cat, I let her go.

She's been quite standoffish with me in this life, until I'd done enough to heal her of the hurt that my decision had caused her. As a tough little hard case, she can be a bit standoffish with the others - and can be quite antagonistic towards Luna. Still, she is learning to co-exist with others, and is opening up emotionally, so the process my now-deceased fiend had started with her is continuing.

She also still has a VERY notable addiction to dairy foods (mostly yoghurt now, though, although that might be more a case of a healthier diet now).

Now, Luna.

Luna is Honey B's litter-sister. The idea of getting a couple of litter mates for company had worked so well with Willow and Saffron that we thought we would try that with a couple of female cats, and it worked out to be a disaster.

Luna came to us extremely timid. I suspect that could be damage from the people who originally had her, who allegedly blew dope at her (that could explain some of Honey B's behaviour as well), but whatever the cause, we had to spend quite a bit of effort building her confidence. Actually, that is "massive", not "quite a bit". As part of that process, her formal name has grown, and is now

"Missy Princess Luna Scallopini Fish and Chips with the Nice New Collar, Amazing Tail and"
- drop your voice a couple of octaves here, and pretend to be a late night TV announcer -
"Braaaand New Attitude".

She has grown to realise that she can ask for attention, that such a fundamental thing is actually OK and not something she will be punished for, and grew to be strong enough to get into trouble and not fall to pieces when she is told off. When that happened, it was both annoying (because of whatever it was she had done) and rewarding, as she had grown and healed.

This short haired cat has the habit of sitting on the top of our lounge and grooming the top of my head - which is what she used to do as Gremlin, a few years ago in the mid 2000s, when she was someone else's cat. Those people had two cats, one was a lovely, serene long haired black cat, and the other was a tortoiseshell, nicknamed Gremlin (I can't recall her proper name - I think I only heard that a couple of times). She wasn't happy there, wasn't loved, and I was asked if I would take her, but I knew my then, now ex-, partner (see above comments about Susie) had a problem with cats, so said no. As a result, she was put to sleep - and I think that contributed to her lack of confidence now (note that this did NOT have an impact on Saffron).

Luna was good practice for us, for when "Max" adopted us."Max" and Honey B are actually my partner's daughter's cats: Max walked up our driveway, diverted into a tree when our dog Sebastion chased him, was rescued and then meowed loudly, demanding to be fed and adopted. "Max" is basically a "street kid", or a feral cat. He had obviously been doing it tough for a while, was injured, and came to us when personal circumstances meant we couldn't say no. Because of his rough start to life, we had to do quite a bit of work to get him settled, and he tends to be rougher, or at least more boisterous, with the other cats than they like - particularly Saffron, who is a big cat, probably seen as a rival by "Max", but is a softie. Honey B is the exception: having had practice at seing off dogs around 30 times bigger than her, she is the only other cat who can terrorise "Max".

When we were discussing getting cats, I made a condition that they would be indoor cvats - partly for their safety, but mostly so they couldn't hunt. Willow in particular, as Hazel, used to be a quite ferocious hunter, and was annoyed when I took any surviving birds away from her. If they went outside, they would be on harnesses - which is OK for Explorer Cat Willow, but Saffron flops and has to be dragged, Honey B has never stayed still long enough to be put into a harness, and Luna used to be an indoor cat as Gremlin anyway, so doesn't particularly care to go outside.

"Max" has broken down that rule. As part of keeping him settled, he gets to go outside without a lead, but he won't go far - he knows where home is, and doesn't want to lose it again.

Now we come to who "Max" used to be. At first I didn't think I'd known him before, but now we've worked out who he was: Zack, the neighbours cat who I never fed. In this life, if food is about when I approach, he waddles over to it, and purrs his head off as he wolfs it down - probably making up for all the times I wouldn't feed him back in the 80s. He's more intelligent than he was then, and has become an at times almost serene cat, and that may be as a result of the reaction to the sequence of being homeless and then finding love that he went through in this life, rather than as a long term thing. I don't know enough about what he has been through in the meantime to judge this from the point of view of sequence of lives.

They're all recognisable from one life to the next, but they all have changed, and continue to change. Thanks be to the Goddess I have a partner who works with me at consciously making sure we have as constructive an impact on these cats as we can.

We've just been informed that the elderly gentleman who lived beside us, Danny, has passed away. I've checked, and he is aware of what has happened, and that he will be with friends when he moves over, but he is waiting until someone finds and adopts his cat, Sylvester, before he does move on, and I've talked to him about ways he can help that to happen, as well as lighting a candle for his cat. (I broke a cup while I was talking to him and making cuppas too, so must remember to stay focused on this world a bit more while doing other worldly stuff.)

As a final note, I would suggest you might like to think about the impact you have on people, animals, places, and how that will affect their ongoing evolution.

As a final, final note, I now have to go and clean up some cat up-chuck that I am presuming is as up-chuck of approval for this article ...

[1] BPF = Balanced Positive (spiritual) Forces. See here and here for more on this.

[2] Please see my post "The Death of Wikipedia" for the reasons I now recommend caution when using Wikipedia.

Love, light, hugs and blessings


Gnwmythr
(pronounced "new-MYTH-ear")
My "blogiography" is here. I started this blog to cover karmic regression-rescue (see here and here), and it grew ...
May the world of commerce and business be recognised to be a servant, not a master, of the lives of people.
A home is for living in, not feeling, becoming or being rich or a “better” class than others.
The International Labour Organisation's definition of "full employment" is wrong, useless and misleading.
Armageddon is alive and well and happening right now: it is a battle between the indolence of "I only ..." and/or "I just ..." on one side, and perspicacity on the other.
Like fire to the physical, emotions to the soul make a good servant, and a bad master. 
The only prejudice should be against prejudice. 
"Do not pray for easy lives. Pray to be stronger [people]." JOHN F. KENNEDY 

The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good [people] to do nothing. EDMUND BURKE

Your children are not your children. ... They come through you but ... they belong not to you ... for their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow KAHLIL GIBRAN

We didn't inherit the Earth from our ancestors, we only borrowed it from our children ANTOINE DE SAINT-EXUPÉRY

 Like an unchecked cancer, hate corrodes the personality and eats away its vital unity. MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR.

Those whom we cannot stand are usually those who we cannot understand P.K.SHAW

Tags: about me, animals, cats, evolution, past life regression, past lives, reincarnation, 

First published: Wodansdagr, 10th October, 2012

Last edited: Wednesday, 10th October, 2012