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Mondays With Merlin Cats, Death Tarot Card

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Mondays With Merlin Cats, Death Tarot Card.

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Is death any way to begin the week? No, I’m not being morbid. We’re talking about the 13th card in tarot which happens to be the Death Card. It’s usually has a creepy skeleton or grim reaper figure and no one wants to choose it. There is a huge misconception about the card and it’s meaning. There’s no doubt it’s a heavy card. I mean we’re not doing the happy dance of let’s say the 10 of cups or the Sun card but it rarely predicts death. It’s the biggest indicator of change and transformation for better or worse. It’s a shit or get off the pot baby because lollygagging is not an option. The winds of change blow hot or cold but fast. La Morte is about letting something die in order to allow new growth or something new.

tarot_death_black_cat

It so happens our new furbro, Clyde is a natural tarot reader. He’s not a chatty motor mouth like me and takes everything seriously. That’s understandable since he’s not in good health and old. Over a week ago, he was in good spirits and amenable to exploring the tarot again. Layla shuffled the deck with the intention of gaining insight into Clyde’s health. The two of them are getting pretty darn tuned in, I’m jealous but in a good way. She divides the deck into three piles and sweeps her hand above each pile asking Clyde, “Do you want pile #1, #2 or #3? Nod your head for a yes.

After a couple test runs and a confirmation nod, Layla turned over the death card.

Okay, not exactly encouraging news about Clyde’s health. Physical death crossed Layla’s mind. He’s requiring lots of attention to find the right food and supplement protocol, the sub-q fluids at a time when he’s not hiding during the day. The biggest mystery was solved last week when Layla discovered his hiding spot. She knew it was in her dressing room and wasn’t concerned since he always showed up for a late dinner until the day he didn’t.

The parents scoured the house from top to bottom with a flashlight. No Clyde. He had to be in the dressing room. She’d seen him emerge from under a love seat once but he wasn’t there. He couldn’t have vanished into thin air or had he shape-shifted like a witch’s familiar? Determined to find him, Layla tipped the love seat over and heard a meow. “Clyde! Come out.” He’d squeezed into the underside and dad had to cut the fabric to release him. He has not hid since but content to stay on the third floor, moving so slowly with increased rear leg weakness. A vet appointment was made at the shelter for the 13th. Ha, the irony was not lost.

New food was tried, flower essences, Reiki but Clyde clearly was in pain. The night he refused to sleep with Layla she knew something really wrong. More calls to the shelter and vet said we could use the Gabapentin on hand. How fitting; there was a whole bottle unused that belonged to me. The vet agreed to see him sooner than the 13th if need be.

Every day death has invaded Layla’s thoughts and she’s prepared for the worst. It didn’t help that Nou Nou was feeling poorly and had to go to the vet last wee. She’d been hiding and acting strange and twitchy. It turns out she has neurological damage from what we thought was her missing eye but the eye is still there but hidden. She may need surgery but the biggest surprise is her teeth. She’s only three, eats the best food, mostly raw and her mouth is a mess. Two shots later, she’s feeling much better but the humans not so much.

And when Odin suddenly hid in Layla’s closet (the #1 choice spot for sick cats) looking off, Layla panicked. Oh, no we’re turning into a kitty hospital again and sky high vets bills. Thankfully, Odin bounced back the next day and Clyde did a 180. The meds and supplements kicked in a couple days ago he’s been eating well, walking less wobbly and best of all, sleeping with Layla and not hiding. He’s still a furry Niagara Falls, drinking and peeing but that’s kidney disease for you. We accept the reality and rocky road ahead. The flip side is the parents adore Clyde and he’s wise old love bug.

There is nothing like an ill or old pet to teach the value of being here meow. To not only take things day by day but moment by moment. The good changes, the bad changes, it all changes. Resistance is not only futile, it’s painful.

The death card suggests change and we’re ready to make necessary changes.

We never know how long a sick cat will rally or why a young cat dies expectantly. When two dear blogger pals died last week (plus a third, we learned about yesterday) it put Layla over the edge who is not in great health either. The pets mirroring humans illness and vice versa concept is alive and well. Layla had her annual check-up on Friday and will hopefully get to the bottom of it. Paws crossed it’s not Lyme disease. No matter what happens we’re not afraid to look death in the face. We know it’s a wake-up call about the sanctity of life.

One of the gifts of death, if you choose to accept it, is a deeper self-awareness and spiritual growth.Don’t be surprised tarot will be playing a much deeper part in our lives starting with special presentation Layla is doing at the end of the month. Stay tuned and know you’re stronger than you know.

Love always,

Merlin & Clyde

cats death tarot

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