Can you believe it’s Monday again, and I’m here to share about cats, souls and shamans. That would be me, Merlin of the feline persuasion, age 21 years, 3 months and 1 week but who is counting? Not me. I take it moment by moment and boy there were some moments last week I’d rather not repeat. For you astrology buffs, Mercury and Jupiter turned retrograde causing communication chaos and techy glitches. The mood all around squirrelly at best. Tensions flared with an uptick in HBO words. Sound familiar?
So there I am restless, peeing up a foul-mouthed storm and the humans decided after another sleepless night that it was time. No, not time to put me to sleep but an early morning visit to the V E T. I’m usually an excellent patient but I don’t want to go. My mom, Layla had been up all night again and even though I told her I don’t want the big needle, I’m not sure she hears me. Thankfully, she lets my dad take me just in case she had any morbid ideas. Everyone dotes on me at the feline-only clinic but I must admit less than presentable and in dire need of a bath. I just can’t clean myself spiffy like the old days.
The good, okay pretty darn amazing news is I gained a few ounces and it wasn’t poop, my bloodwork is not bad all things considered and I DON’T have crystals. The blood in the urine that comes and goes is probably polyps. And I have a VERY strong heart. The bad news is the vet said I don’t have long to live. WHAT THE HELL? My dad goes deeper into denial. Layla goes into action mode as soon as I get home. She talks to the vet about options. What happens when. With a very old cat with a weak heart, they often just die naturally of heart failure. BUT my heart is strong. The other thing with CKD is vomiting. I rarely vomit but at end stage kidney disease vomiting frequency increases. She says that’s when the organs are shutting down and frequent vomiting is not pleasant. I can imagine but dying is rarely pleasant. It felt so good to get home and dive under the covers for some shamanic journeying with Layla.
I enjoy my time with her but something is very wrong. She calls it a spiritual emergency.
Thank COD she has friends to help. One friend suggested a session with her shaman and it felt right. Layla sets up a time to talk with the shaman to find out if they’d like to work with each other. It’s serious business and every shaman has a different approach. When you have a toothache, you go to the dentist. If you break a leg, you see an orthopedic surgeon but if your soul is sick, seeing a shaman is the answer for many. Shamanism is the oldest form of healing the soul or life essence dating back about 40,000 years and practiced all over the world.
I wondered how this session would be different since we already work with power animals and spirit guides. It turns out Layla didn’t need me to be there, just as the shaman didn’t need to be there in person. It’s always easier when two practitioners work together and can speak in short hand but it’s good to have reminders of what we already know. I used to be Layla’s assistant for many years with clients and knew this time would be different. Holy tuna and sardines! Talk about an intense almost 3 hours. I didn’t need to be in the room to know I was a big part of the soul retrieval. It was healing and enlightening to learn why I was still hanging around. It involves responsibility and sacrifice from the time Layla adopted me. There was a soul exchange and with it a gradual soul loss to Layla. We each needed to return a missing part and now I am free to go.
It’s way more intricate than this simple explanation but that’s all for now. I actually feel more peaceful since the session. Having a delightful bath helped restore my furs to their glory. And look! Someone got creative and made a cozy coat/cape from my CloudPuff. I hadn’t been out for days and a short stroll did me good.
This is in an old pic from two years ago and a reminder January is Dress Up Your Pet Day. Oh dear, never mind. See you soon!