A Familiar For A Lifetime


I wake up and giggle as Rhiannon is trying to walk around my sleeping husband’s head.  I lay there and pet her for a few minutes, then we both excitedly walk into the kitchen together to see if I’ve caught that mouse that has been making itself at home in my kitchen.  Why do I need a glue trap to catch a mouse when I have a 30 pound cat?  Well, basically, because she is spoiled.  And she rightly deserves to be.

About a year ago, my daughter told me she was expecting my second grandbaby.  I remembered how much time and energy I had put in to her first child, and I started getting annoyed at little things like cleaning out the litter box and sweeping up cat hair.  My Rhiannon wasn’t used to being around alot of people and sometimes she wasn’t always “nice”.  This is right around the time that I’d made one of the worst decisions of my witchy life.  I decided to give her away.  I’d made arrangements with my husband’s sister to take her.

Two months after she took her, I got a phone call saying Rhiannon really wasn’t eating or drinking and she was just laying in the bathroom by the toilet alot.  I wondered if she was just homesick.

A week later I get another phone call, saying that she acted like she couldn’t walk, and that about 3 AM, my sis-in-law went to the bathroom and her dog was pulling on Rhiannon’s tail, while another one of her dogs was barking at Rhiann; and that Rhiannon was trying to “roll” toward the hallway to get away from them.  I was horrified.  She took her to the vet.  I told my husband that I was going to get my cat.

I travelled the two hours to the vet’s office and went inside.  I didn’t recognize my precious kitty when at first I saw her.  She was severely dehydrated.  She was so boney that you could see every bone in her body.  Literally.  Even in her head.  She weighed exactly half of what she did when I gave her away.  She was laying on a pee pad in a cage and she was sopping wet.  She had an I.V.in her little arm and her fur was completely matted.  When I picked her up into my arms, her eyes rolled as she was in and out of consciousness.

The vet explained to me that she had somehow gotten poisioned, she and her liver was toast.  He told me not to expect her to live through the night.  I held her in the vets office for about three hours.  I cried and sang to her.  I tried to visualize the poisions leaving her body as black oil-like masses.  When she saw my two year old grandson who had come with me, she lifted her head toward him and tried twice to reach out her paw toward him.

The next day, I got a call from the vet’s office saying that I could pick her up.  They were very surprised that she had lived through the night.  I once again drove the two hours and picked my baby up, cuddling her in my lap as I drove.  At some point through the drive, Rhiannon mustered up enough energy to take a few steps over to the passenger side of the car and crawl in to my daughter’s lap.

For weeks, I had to push an IV needle in to her skinny arm three times a day.  I had to force a liver pill down her throat twice a day.  I used a syringe to feed her a pasty formula and water.  These were orders from the vet.

The witch in me went straight to the local witch store and consulted the store owner.  There, I’d bought a special mix of oils to rub on key points on her body and on to her paws every day.  This oil was to draw toxins out of her body.  I purchased a Bloodstone and Aquamarine stone which I put in her water bowl.  They remain in her water bowl even today.  My heart was breaking as I read over healing books and dicovered that problems she was having stemmed from emotions, not being heard, not being able to voice an opinion.  Then I poured over my herbal remedy books and discovered that dandelion root is a main ingredient for medicinal use for problems with the liver.  I went out into the yard and dug up the biggest dandelion roots I could find around the creekbed and dried them out; a couple of days later making her dandelion root tea….which I fed her through a syringe several times a day.  I rocked her in my rocking chair and sang gently to her every day while visualizing the toxins leaving her body.  I tried to get the mats out of her hair by taking a tiny pair of scissors going underneath the mat – cutting the hair next to her skin.  This took more than two weeks, and was painful to Rhiann….but it had to be done.

I sent pictures of progress to my sister-in-law a couple of months later.  She couldn’t believe it was the same cat.  It hurts me to think about this.  Tears run down my face as I write it now.  My cat tried to kill herself from the  loneliness of being taken away from her family. I definately count that as “one of her nine lives”.  Now she has eight left.  Take a lesson from me……..never, ever give away your familiar.


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