This tiny gorgeous furry dude is Wolfie.
My amazing little adventurer, my badass mousecatcher, my diry stopout.
He is two years old and a dear, dear friend. I love him with all of my heart.
Right now, he’s fighting for his life at the vets in Halifax – he’s been poisoned by *something* he ate – I have no idea what. I slept spooning with him last night, listening to his tiny breaths, fully expecting that by morning, he would have left us. But he’s hanging in there. After a series of terrifying seizures and wide-eyed cries, he was taken to the vets this morning, sedated and put on an IV drip. If he makes it through tonight, there will be blood tests and, hopefully, treatment. But it’s not looking good.
I’ve cancelled my evening plans to curl up with my other two – Emily and Jamila – and wait for updates. I’m not sure really what to do with myself. Except wait. And send him all of my love and warmth and strength.
And draw a card for him. The Page of Pentacles.
An explorer, a practical one. A desire to manifest his dreams, to bring them to life in reality. A youngster with a desire to explore his world, sensually, deeply. Graceful, full of fascination. An apprentice in life with his whole life ahead of him.
I read Rachel Pollack’s words in The New Tarot Handbook: Fascination with something without the need to do anything except follow the wonder of it. I think of all the times I’ve watched Wolfie from my window, disappearing into the woods above my boat or balancing along the gutter of the roof opposite my old flat.
He always stays out longer than the other two, goes further, comes home with the weirdest stuff. And he always returns. He has such a strong sense of home. I know that cats often take themselves off to somewhere private to die – when Wolfie felt death’s grip on him, he came home and curled up, crying, on the sofa. I woke in the night and he was hiding underneath – calling out. I reached under and stroked him softly, his little cries arising each time I stopped. I took him to my bed and curled around him, focusing all of my love and strength into him.
Please, please make it through Wolfie. I know you’re a fighter, I’ve seen you fighting. Fight that poison with all of your muscular, strong young body and come home once again to us soon. I love you.
I’m a 30-something writer, artist, tarot reader, and perpetual explorer of the space between thought, feeling, and action.
I believe that spirituality and ritual are for everybody. I’m about the journey, in all of its messy, non-linear, chaotic iterations. I am excited by anticapitalist business and living with my whole entire self present. I use tarot cards to bring forth hidden truth, and ritual to affirm my commitment, over and over, to my ever-shifting path.