I don’t remember the exact year that Maggie came into my life. She was a childhood dog. I think I must have been nine or ten; My first childhood dog Pepper, was reaching up there in age and I suppose my parents thought it was a good idea to bring in another dog so the death transition wasn’t too traumatic for young children who had their mother die.
There is no way I would ever be thinking about this if it wasn’t for the here and now, and the timeless nature of things.
Okay, so, Maggie was a Brittany Spaniel my folks picked up from the local shelter. She was young and energetic… she really liked to jump up on people, which is an “unwanted behavior”. I was at an age where I had to perform chores for an allowance, and one of those chores was picking up dog shit. I would try and have fun with Maggie as I cleaned up the dog yard. One of the things I would do is try and get her to not jump up on me, that is like dog 101.
Maggie didn’t have a super long life. She died in my New Kids On the Block blanket, it was my prized possession about the time she came into our life. It seemed right she passed on in it.
I didn’t realize that I have been working with her too. I never thought of her as “my dog.” I wasn’t allowed to even if I wanted to. She was a “family dog.” Probably so that my brother and I didn’t argue about such nuance. I’ve literally been picking up animal poop in some capacity for the last 28 years. You only do that stuff for true love, and in return, a true Love will try and make that as easy on you as possible if they are aware of how you struggle with it.
Maggie knew that I thought picking up crap was horrible, but I think she also sensed my magic and imagination tied to the desire to try and make a miserable task bearable. True durability of connection.
When I was a kid, I wanted an animal of my own SO BAD! I wanted something that was my own that I loved deeply. When I finally was able to do that- the situation was so weird.
I rescued a meat rabbit from the neighbors. They had hired me to feed their animals while they were out of town and I fell for one of their rabbits. So my dad built a hutch and I was able to have this Hunny Bunny. She was reddish and had a black accent and this little bald mole spot above and to the side of her right eye. It was that spot that made me want her.
Our relationship didn’t work out. She definitely needed more attention, and she had to sleep outside in the hutch all of the time. It isn’t the way I would treat a bunny. But my parents were more about having domestic “outside” animals and rules for things like that. I wanted to cuddle with furballs.
I remember telling my dad that the rabbit was getting vicious and we needed to send it back to nature so we let her go down by a pond near our house… where I didn’t think she would last very long. And that is what we did… we gave her back to nature.
I now see Hunny in Quantum Dream Cat. So this story isn’t going to stop. If animals are here to assist us in being elevated humans, I am full on board. I am listening.
I don’t remember how I felt with Maggie passing on the couch, in my blanket. Once she started seizing, my parents made us leave.
I’ve been well acquainted with death while also dealing with it many times over my lifetime from an early age.
Claddagh was my first real experience with it all suddenly and first hand with extreme emotional attachment. Everything else has been leading up to facing that moment and knowing that “The End” is never REALLY “The END.”
Again I will say, I am so full of love right now. This is quite the experience. It is certainly meant to be shared and understood for the vastness that it is. This Truth swept beneath rugs meant to accumulate sorrows. It is hard to talk about because it is hard to conceptualize that the whole thing is one beautiful conversation with All That Is.
These gifts, despite tragic ends, are proof of that which is hard to speak.
In December, it happened- all of the scrolling through FB pages looking for the “perfect dog” while daily breaking my own heart looking at all those fur balls that need furever homes- I finally saw her.
I knew it from her eyes. No picture of any dog spoke to me like this one did. She had recently been posted for rescue, and I wanted to be first on the list. So late that night, I filled out an application with magnanimous amounts of hope and love brewing within my soul. When I looked at this picture, I knew that I knew this dog even though she was rescued 622 miles away. Then I looked at her number. The last four digits are the same as my SSN. Weird right? Not to me- just a sign of synchronicity to come.
Over the course of the next day, my application was put into the process, but Nina (as they called her) was tagged by a rescue based in the Colorado Springs area with fosters all across the Front Range. Usually, they don’t deal with interested fosters this far North because they don’t have many connections in the area to make transports easier.
Perfect timing was that application was filled out right before Christmas and most people were entrenched in their holiday plans, making transport a bit more complicated. At first, I thought it would only be a few days before she would head my direction, but after further assessment, they realized she is not spayed and had kennel cough. They would be unwilling to do surgery until the cough was cleared up… So, my baby had to sit in quarantine for a few days until she was cleared for surgery. I was told it could be a couple of weeks.
It was fine. I was willing to be patient. Patience comes easy when you are sure it is The One. I wanted to make sure that she was healthy enough to travel and if we had to wait a little longer, then it would be worth it.
Finally last week she was cleared for transport. She would be here Sunday, January 13, 2019.
In the weeks leading up to Nina’s transport, I began a process of talking to her through my psychic centers, just like I use to with Claddagh. I told Nina about my home life, the people in it and my other pet friends. I told her about the expectations I have for a calm house life. I told her about Claddagh and how much she meant to me. I told her, that I would be her last spot. I am her Home.
Every night before falling asleep I would tell the kitteries about our new friend. And, as I drifted to slumber I would send all the healing love energy to this new but suffering companion.
Jump back to 2007, when Claddagh came into my life. I was living with friends in Gilpin, Colorado. Friends who are on a higher wavelength when it comes to spiritual discussions and how spiritual dynamics affect our reality. Friends who, themselves are animal lovers.
During one of the animal discussions, the topic of animal reincarnation was brought up because even at first I was afraid of losing Claddagh. I was already preparing for her death in my psyche. This is when my friend Lindy started talking about animal reincarnation and soul companions in the form of pets.
That we contract with the souls of animals for lessons and companionship in learning those lessons. That once we fell in love with an animal it was imparted with a Soul Personality. Given the duration of life is much shorter for an animal, their Souls are allowed to return in different bodies if the contract is still active.
I always felt like I would be with Claddagh forever and ever, amen. I certainly didn’t feel like our contract was up when I had to say “good-bye.”
In spiritual communities it is talked about that animal reincarnation can take one of three forms. The soul being born into the body; the soul “walking into” a body that is already established in the world, and Soul Braiding.
Soul Braiding is when say a dying animal Soul contracts with another animal soul that is living. They contract to share a body and a personality in order to continue the initial soul contract with the human the first animal Soul was tied to. Essentially the living animal Soul agrees to bind with the dying animal Soul and facilitate a continuation of where things left off.
Far left, right? Totally fucking Woo-woo, right?
I don’t think so.
Due to a scheduling conflict, I was unable to pick up Nina from transport and I had to arrange for someone else to bring her to me. I noticed my dad was working near Fort Collins that day, and I offered a homemade quiche for help in the matter. I asked him because the last time Claddagh disappeared, my dad arrived at the shelter before I did in order to help locate her. He also said to me “Mandie, you need to get another dog.” I figured if he was a strong advocate, then he would be of excellent assistance for uniting me with my newest friend. Plus he really likes dogs, and I think they know that about him.
Finally, around 8:20pm they walk through the door. Nina is apprehensive as all get out. Her tail curled between her back legs, even when sitting down. She was easy under my dad’s control of the thin leash. She wasn’t sure about me. She wasn’t sure of anything except that she was comfortable with my dad. Ha! The man was worried she wouldn’t like him, and now she was thinking that she was supposed to leave with him… Sorry, puppers, you are staying with me.
After my dad left, she wandered around looking for him. Going back to the front door and just standing there giving little whines.
My pupception tells me that Soul Braiding began sometime between November of 2017 when Quantum adopted me, and March 2018 when the kittens were born. I also assume this is when the slow-growing tumor began on Claddagh’s heart. Claddagh being 100% Love, wasn’t going to leave me stranded and alone. And in fact, the cats were the best support in my mourning.
Nina, in my estimation in between 9 months and a 1.5 years old, and seems to me that she is part of the timeline. This is why the process for her to come to me, despite the distance, has perfectly aligned.
The piece of Claddagh’s Soul that is in this Nina, began to wake up on the drive with my dad. She sensed a familiarity that was safe.
After he left, I let her wander around the house and check everything out. Then she snuggled up on the sleeping bag in the garage and I read to her my Letter to my Future Dog. As I did, she stared at me. Giving me direct eye contact, which took Claddagh years to become confident enough to do. And we just stared at each other, me with tears in my eyes catalyzed by the overwhelming love and familiarity that I was feeling.
Shortly after that, she began to unfurl. Her tail still seemingly timid in its expression, was now starting to go outward, instead of under. When before she wasn’t interested in coming to me, now all of a sudden she wanted to be right by my side.
There were some tests. I kept taking her outside, hoping she would go… but it was still overwhelming her. She came back in, and I ran inside to put Gma to bed. When I came back out there was a very fresh and large pile of poop on the concrete floor. Claddagh would never make a mess on the carpet if there was an option, and that wasn’t something that I taught her, just like she would never poop on a trail.
I notice the poop, and Nina notices me notice the poop and she hunches into herself again, acting as if she will get reprehended. Instead, I got excited! It looked like really healthy poop, and I was happy to know that she was able to clear her bowels. I told her good job, cleaned up the mess and put down some enzymes so she knows that isn’t the location for that in the future. She unfurls, even more, it’s confirmed she “Is a Good Girl.” She need not worry about abuse for mistakes or accidents. Her comfort comes out in abounding waves.
We stay up until 4:30 in the morning, playing a sort of “getting to know you.” But do you know what she wants most of all? Just to be cuddled with me. When we finally went to bed, she was right there in the bed with me, like it’s been forever.
Today, she was a completely different animal from when she walked through the door. We went on a car ride, and she is perfect. We went to the feed store and she was perfect. She is observing the other animals and people, and still showing some timidness, but also a sort of excitement… she wants them to like her.
Quantum isn’t impressed with me currently and I think it’s because I relocated her and Capricious downstairs while we figure out introductions and dynamics. I think in a week everything will go into a normal routine and the kitteries can come back up to my room and we can live like the weird little family that we are.
Current things that have happened in the last less than 24 hours that give me confidence in Soul Braiding;
1. When I ask her for a hug, she puts her paws on my knees. When I say full hug, she brings her paws to my shoulders, and we give a full hug.
2. She wants to hold hands while driving.
3. Her favorite spot is right next to me, regardless.
Those three things were a daily component of living with Claddagh for almost eleven years. How is it this timid dog just walked right into that alignment without me asking her to?
The answer is The Soul Knows.
I’d like to introduce my new best friend; Journey.
“She was a kitten born in a sketchy trailer park; adopted by a kind old neighbor on the brink of death.
She had the survival skills of an ally cat and dreams of loving comfort, a place and person to call her own. A person she could trust… and rely on… for a life time.
This cat would transcend time and space to find the perfect place to land… in Dimension 18.
Little did the humans know, the cats were grouping again after nearly a catillion years. Within their own ranks and factions, a night fight was brewing with intensity and the expanding breeding program appeared to be out of control.
Quantum was sent as One in a team of Nine to right the balance of nature and protect the dimension. As a Siamese Ragdoll she was congenial unless provoked by prey or a distinctive enemy. Quantum was hell bent on the kill, but more than that, she is intent on saving Dimension 18.
Can Nine cats, with nine lives save the 18th Dimension? If Quantum has a choice, Dimension 18 will exist forever, and she will walk into infinity with all nine lives and all nine companions… The Human included.”
( so if I get around to this I might make a rough comic… but I just like the idea of it as a movie trailer for a comic.)
I clicked the first link which led me to Quora, and I felt the page should be shared because the answers are funny and frightening.
Let’s face it, cats are funny and frightening. This recent foray in to having feline companions in close proximity, is definitely causing me to see them in a new light. I guess I never noticed how strange they really are. Between them chasing shit I can’t see, the stare downs and strange reactions to my direct questions about surveillance and intelligence… I just don’t know.
Yes, my cat Quantum was being super talkative one night and every time I asked her a question she had a response, until I started asking her if she was in the CIA. I know that sounds super crazy, but she wouldn’t talk if I brought up intelligence agencies. Take from that what you will.
Quantum is also incredibly psychic, I can call her in my head and she will show up shortly after. Given her random appearance in my life, I give her the benefit of the doubt. I’d like to think she is an ally in some wicked spiritual battle and that she protects me to a certain degree, specifically when I sleep. That also sounds crazy, but I have a pretty vivid imagination and my days don’t provide as much entertainment as I could imagine myself.
Quantum may be a double agent, though. I haven’t figured that out yet.
Okay, okay… A random cat finds you, you think it may be lost and you give it the freedom to return to “home”,only “home” is now your house and she gets all prego… whaddaydo?
Watch life begin, of course.
The last 12 weeks have been brutal… for me. Separations; mom wanting space, bigger poops in the litter box, everyone eating me out of house and home but ultimately jealousy. Let me tell you about my late affection.
Little Rascal (now known as Khajiit) is one of the two calico’s from my tiny fur tribe. She was the last one to offer me her sweetness. When she finally gave forth, it was precious beyond words… but our beginnings were not so kosher.
In my observation Itty Bitty and Khajiit were in cat-hoots. They like a bit of that bite and claw action. If someone was biting at my toes, it was that Lil Rascal Khajiit. In the beginning there was minimal holding and reluctance to kiss; week 11 when Peanut Buddy (now Otto) left, the tides shifted. Lil Miss shifted from “battle bro” to “cuddle now.” I had no complaints. She jumped on the kissy train and settled down a bit.
Of course this begs the question of sibling dynamics, even in the animal world. Catland was now fully saturated with females and one male, Big Boy . Big Boy calmed down at least five fold without Peanut Buddy offering some male petition. Khajiit was in second place when it came to strength, size and agility without harassing Momma. The Game was on.
Khajiit seemed to desire some self definition right away; she was a middle baby and despite her distinction in the looks department, her evasive nature made her hard to pin down or in human terms “force love upon”. She seemed astute and willing to sit on the sidelines in order to form her own opinions. I regret to say that more than once she was at the mercy of my clumsy nature around fast moving objects (namely my clumsy ass feet). I definitely stepped on her tail more than once but always apologized and gave love afterward. At one point I asked myself why it was always her that was at the mercy of my lack of grace…. obviously she came to grips with it because when she decided to love, it was super obvious.
All of sudden she wants to cuddle, FIRST! Everyone else is running around like an idiot and she is like “Nah, I’m gonna grab that sweet warm spot behind the shaggy fat persons legs.” History is made! But Her Story is just beginning.
Jenny and Seneca wanted a kittery. They NEEDed a kittery; my house is like a cat drug den… who will fall victim? After Otto left, I let them all know ‘Some one is waiting for you, and they can’t wait to show you a whole new world.” Before Jenny came over to meet and greet, I told them “It’s equal opportunity, but I have my feelings.” For some reason I knew LIL would make her mark in the introductory love department, and she did not disappoint.
Jenny came over for a meet and greet with a nature so gentle, I am sure all of them were surprised. That nature is just what Lil needed if only to give them a run for their money. Jenny wants to toilet train and walk on a leash and that is exactly the kind of world exposure newly named Khajiit needs. A whole new world of love and adventure. Independence and dependence with the perfect balance of personality.
Khajiit is currently causing a riff of jealousy with her kin; within 48 hours of being in her new home she was given the opportunity to star in a music video from SunnyDale High, Seneca’s rad Wyoming band that thematically follows Buffy The Vampire Slayer. Khajiit is going to be a hit.
You should definitely check out her acting debut with a great soundtrack by Seneca’s band. Also you should definitely check out Sunnydale High when they play WARPED Tour this summer in Denver, if you do, you should tell them “Khajiit sent you.”
May all my kitteries rock and find their love-home dreams come true.
Check out Khajiit’s debut and Sunnydale High’s music at this adorable link.
May the Meows be with you, Lord Kittery knows we all could use it right now.
The time has come for the kitteries to say goodbye to me and Momma. Time to go into the great unknown that exists outside of my bedroom. Time to bond and claim space in places that are not “here.”
PeanutBuddy, also referred to as “My Lil Lion” was my one solitary light colored kit in the brood. He is strong, and sweet. The minute the kitteries pics went up, people were most interested in him. I went with my first friend showing interests with an intent to re-home them with people I know, or people who have been vetted by people I know.
This week I have really felt the need to cull the herd; Momma is getting irritated and they are growing at a rapid pace which makes a small room feel even smaller. PeanutBuddy was the strongest and biggest and was making daily efforts to test his strength, endurance and agility on his poor tired Mommacat. Her irritation was palatable as she would attempt to shake him off or subdue him long enough to jump to unreachable heights.
At night, I wrangle the kits into an upside down laundry basket so that I can spend a night without being ambushed or having random objects drop from shelves. This morning I noticed they had grown big enough to require more than one laundry basket, so it’s probably a good thing they like a nice cuddle puddle.
Last night I met with my friend and her mother, to come meet the kit and sent them home with a pillow made of my decimated bed spread; fully engulfed in the clan scent. I wanted to make sure their current cat was cool with it, and I want something familiar for him to go to in his new home. Their current kitty slept the night on the pillow, and will hopefully share and accept Peanut once she recognizes Peanuts smell in there.
Before they came over I debriefed the kitteries about our visitors and their intentions and our future together. I told them all that the people were specifically interested in PB. Once my friend and her mother arrived the kits dynamic changed. PB who is usually quite gregarious, hung back and acted skitterish. Everyone else stepped to the forefront, which is rare for a couple of them. They actively engaged in play while PB hid under the dresser, unsure of his future. Toward the end of the hang out he emerged and gave socialization a go, his little heart pitter pattering with nerves.
After our guests left, I told them it wasn’t certain, but it was likely that PB would be going away tomorrow. I explained that it wasn’t my lack of love, it was simply not economical or fair, they need their space. We all need our space and deserve it. Lots of love was given, but I could feel another shift in the dynamic. I would liken it to rebellion.
This morning, ( the day after) I was given confirmation that PeanutBuddy had a new home and that he would be leaving this afternoon. As soon as I told everyone what was up the rebellion kicked off. Bites were harder, jumps were more pronounced and effective. (While bending over in nothing but underwear one of them jumped straight on to my ass in the most brutal of ways…. yeah, I jumped and yelped.)
Each time I would walk into my room the energy was different, usually everyone is cuddled in a mass but today, everyone was close together with PB sitting alone at the end of my dogs bedding. It felt like contemplation and the energy of his siblings was resentful. They knew they were losing their leader. Perhaps I am anthropomorphizing them, or perhaps spending almost thirteen weeks straight with these little critters from day one, means I am experiencing a very real dynamic that I have limited understanding and wording for, but this is what I can liken it to.
11:30 am rolled around and it would be soon that separation would occur. I wanted us all to share one last cat nap together. I forgot my phone, so I asked the cats to make sure I got up by 12:30. At first it was a struggle, everyone was blaming me with what energy they had left and PB was the last to settle down but when he did, he cuddled under my chin on my neck and fell fast asleep while the rest of his crew laid in a puddle on my abdomen. Momma laid down on the dresser, overlooking our pile of fur and humanity and we rested for an hour and I had to get up.
It was like curtain call in the theatre. “Okay cats (cast), life will change very soon. Make your peace and say your good-byes. We love you PeanutBuddy!”
A short while later I asked my grandma if she would like to say goodbye, and she said yes. I brought him into the room and she became emotional.
“It feels like I am losing a friend.” She said. I couldn’t help but agree, once upon a few months ago they were helpless little fur balls with an uncertain future… now they could probably instinctively kill a rodent and be surprised by the outcome… how far we can move so quickly.
Everyone said goodbye, even the dogs. And I slipped that little tan critter in to a critter carrier; it was hard. I am not a cat person, I am an animal person. Sometimes I hate love, ya know… you always have to say goodbye and it’s rarely a relief. My emotions are wrapped up in the fact that I saw life happen in front of my eyes. I saw growth and development based on my influence. I hope they all are just the best for their new homes but that doesn’t stop the emotion I am feeling. I am not quite sure what to liken it to as a person who has never had children. I guess I get the same feeling when I think about my dog, or any dog I have ever loved or has been loved by people I love, and that dog passing away. I’m deeply saddened by the idea of the feeling of abandonment.
I want that kittery to know I didn’t “abandon him,” even though it feels like I did. Will he care once he is integrated and spoiled in his new home… probably not, but I don’t know for sure and that is why they call it anthropomorphism. We put human attributes on animals, I don’t know if they felinopomorph, and think any one human is more or less cat-tributed behavior or personality. I know my relationship with Quantum is significantly different now than it was when she came to me in November, and we have yet to see how that will pan out once she regains her space and freedom. (This bitch needs a snip-snip if you know what I mean, before she can explore the outdoors again.)
I just take it day to day, ya know? Really it’s all I can do.
These five rascally little critters are creeping upon nine weeks old. Which means they are jumping; skipping, side-sliding and scaling EVERYTHING. Take for instance my legs and my need to wear two pairs of pants because each and every one of these kitteries has taken a running jump onto my calf and attempted to crawl up as far as the fabric would take them. They are like little lumber jacks, or ice climbers. They selectively use their claws in unimaginable ways.
Recently they have taken this skill to a whole new challenge with similar height restrictions, but a broader playing area: my back, while cleaning the litter box. There I am all hunched over feces, making sure everyone is feeling confident about their next poo when one or more of them take a running leap at my back. I mean, obviously claws are involved in this, they are learning the the “running-jump and cling”. This may or may not be a problem for me on any given day on account of what shirt I am wearing and the surface area that it covers plus thickness of material or lack there of. “Lack of material” immediately inserts a negative into the question which = claws in skin which may be multiplied by the depth of penetration.
I never thought my body would be a playground. I never knew that someone should recommend wearing Carharts, gloves and denim in order to deal with furry, sharp-sharp furriness.
Here is the juxtaposition that makes it even harder… They can be SO gentle and sweet; it is selective and you have to pay attention and the less you pay attention the more likely you are to meet some sort of feline wrath.
Perhaps you are a seasoned kitterycat enthusiast/ companion; for me this is my third instillation of “learning experiences” that have been growing more intense over time and as I’ve mentioned before, my first “hands on from birth of the feline species” experience. I really didn’t know what to expect and what people told me to do, I kind of bounced it around and felt it out, ultimately disregarding it to the degree of augmenting it and seeing what worked in my situation.
I am by no means disappointed, in fact this whole thing has been amazing but not always perfect.
You know how I was saying that one needs to pay attention to the feline signs? Well I do, over all; certain calls for food or new litter (and in Quantum’s case, to go outside or the fact she is tired of her kin), the kittens are in the experimental hunting phase of looks, eye connection (or lack thereof) and “mad-dogging”.
Here is how it usually goes down: I want to lay down and primarily settle down for the night but the minute I walk through the door everyone wants attention and they are fired up. When they are fired up they wrestle and run around and jump on everything or claw anything until their tiny little muscles say “STOP!”
I lay in bed and they treat me like some Kittery CrossFit that includes; running laps, using my bun like a weighted rope, high diving off of shelves and stealthily trying to bite/lick my eyes, ears, nose, mouth and chin. If I was more invested I would come up with proper names for the crazy events this clan of Kittery participates in, daily.
My least favorite event, is “Stare Her Down With Looks Of Love And Then Take Swift Bats At Her Face.” A kittery will get all close to my face hole; all big eyes and looks of curiosity. Then they start bobbing around a little, probably because they are focusing on a place on my face to plant a claw (if they are ruthless) or just a paw (if they are somewhat scary yet playful) and then it is “GAME ON”. My hands already look like I not only cut myself (for fun, of course) but also as though I have experienced the “stigmata”… raisin’ kitteries ain’t easy.
Admittedly I have had to learn to retaliate from this physical abuse. Some of the events in my height and weight Cat-agory are ” Shake ‘Em Off Like a Dog”, Human Earth Quake, Kittery Toss, and Quicker Reflexes.
I think “Kittery Toss” is fun for everyone.
When I walk through the door, they know my gait coming down the hall. They not only swarm but also they try and escape. I suppose it isn’t appropriate to kick them around like soccer balls, so, I pick them up one by one and gently toss them (American Quaterback Football Style) onto my bed. If one goes, they all watch and they jet quickly to greet their tossed sister or brethren on the landing pad with some good ole fashion kitty wrestling. I just keep tossing them up there and they just keep coming back for more. It’s the one event that seems to leave me uninjured and the kitteries highly entertained.