Magick Message Cat
Prowling the August Garden
Magick Message Cat by Silver RavenWolf copyright 2010
“Did you find anything cool?” asked my daughter as we meandered in and out of the packed aisles of a little country store that featured all things decoratively homey.
I shrugged my shoulders, then sighed, “Not really; but, I’m sure I’ll find something. This season’s Halloween stuff is really great! Something will call to me.”
“Okay,” she said brightly, switching her already overflowing basket from one hand to the other. She headed off to another area of the store while I stood there staring at a plethora of grungy candles, fall wreathes, and sweet-smelling, handmade pillows with pumpkins, ghosts, and scarecrows waiting patiently for a good home. Argh. Nothing appealed to me.
This day, my daughter and I were indulging on a shopping excursion to take my mind away from my problems with my father, the unwilling servant of the Goddess Dementia. I felt that I should buy at least one thing as a testament of my willingness to continue to be a normal person out in the world. My daughter had made a special effort to pick me up and bring me to this store. The last thing I wanted to do was disappoint her. She’d made the effort to get me out here, away from the madness of repetitive stories, memories that had no basis in fact, and the hostility of a two-year-old mind in a 178 pound body of an adult. The least I could do was act like I was having a good time and find something unique to call my own. I was, indeed, having a great time — I was just having a problem finding something unusual (the number one criteria of anything I purchase which is why I have so many ugly-cool things in my living area — sometimes unique is far from beautiful).
I wandered upstairs and down in the house-converted-store with no luck. Sure, I liked the 900 pound clock on the wall — who wouldn’t — but; the Virgo brain squashed that one quick. I shuffled out into the sun room filled with the remnants of spring and summer gardening things.
“Find anything yet?”
I jumped and turned. Lost in my own fog, I didn’t hear my daughter walk up behind me. I shook my head. “Not a thing. Bummer.”
“I’m just about ready to check out,” she said. “Why not look around one more time?”
“Go ahead, I’ll be right behind you,” I answered, and turned to follow, promptly tripping over a painted wooden striped cat. “What the?” I muttered and picked him up to set him right. “That’s certainly unique,” I thought. “And he’s not even ugly. Too bad its a bird house.” I brushed him off, eyed him for a moment, checked the price, put him down quickly and walked away. Maybe another time. I made one more trip around the store on my daughter’s advice; but, nothing jumped out at me. I kept thinking about that cat. What could I use it for? He had a hole in his stomach because he was a bird house. I could save him until spring…nah. It was too nice to put outside anyway. Eventually, I found myself back in the sun room. I stared at the cat. Unblinking, he stared back. I hunched my shoulders and frowned, eyeing him closely. He grinned back. I circled him like a predatory something-or-other. He stood very still and let me inch closer.
I snatched him up and put him in my basket, victorious in my capability of trapping the elusive beast of uniqueness all for the sale price of $29.95. (Now you know why I put him down the first time.)
When I arrived home, my husband said, “What the hell are you going to do with that? Fall is coming. You hang that outside and it’ll be ruined.”
“I’ll think of something,” I said defensively and perched him on my VCR (yes, I still have one of those). “I could turn him into a message cat! I could put petitions in his belly! You know, make him into a magickal messenger. You just cast a circle, cleanse, consecrate, and empower him for his mission and you’re good to go.”
My husband rolled his eyes and shook his head. “We do have things called cell phones now,” he said as he wiggled his fingers by his ear like a phone, “which will connect in less than 60 seconds and work better than an inanimate statue that I bet cost you more than I want to know.”
I cocked my eyebrow and stuck out my tongue at his retreating back. Really, now. Is that what you think? Aloud, I said nothing. In the world of magick you pay close heed to the observers around you. Major Witchy Rule of Thumb: If someone is in doubt, keep your mouth shut. So, I did.
Weeks went by and I didn’t make any effort to use the cat. Just dusted him. Family members remarked on his presence; but, I didn’t say a whole lot about him. During our healing circles, with Wiccans, Witches, Pow-Wow’s and Pagans present, he observed from his vantage point, taking it all in. From flying holy water to a bonfire cauldrons, spilled wax on the tablecloth, laughter, chanting, drumming, bells, gongs, and off-key singing, he never moved from his perch — he just took it all in. Did I mention we’re not particularly quiet in healing circle?
Anyway! Every morning I would sit at the dining room table trying to wake up, clutching a cup of tea, attempting to enjoy a few precious moments of silence, staring at the cat through fog filled eyes. The cat always smiled back. Which was a good thing. Sometimes, during the day, I would sit just for a moment to catch my breath and the cat kindly didn’t utter a sound.
During a particularly stressful week, I plopped my behind in the chair, my gaze automatically wandering to the cat. I’d left several messages (via cell phone of course — that thing that is supposed to connect in 60 seconds?) to someone on important family business and they hadn’t returned my calls. I was feeling frustrated with a heap of worry on top.
I looked at the cat.
“Do it,” I said, and specifically told him aloud who I wanted to contact, forming a picture of that person in my mind, and that I wanted a return call immediately.
Within 30 seconds, I kid you not, my cell phone rang, and it was precisely the party I’d asked for, profusely apologizing for the delay in returning my calls. After our conversation was over I disconnected the call, and smiled at the cat. “Good job!” I said.
He just grinned back as if to say, “So whose faster now?”
Yeah, and without a contract and plenty of free magickal kitty minutes. I’ll definitely stick with the cat with world wide access!
Note: Other than this story being food-for-enchanting-thought — it really does have a point. We all want our spells to work better and faster; yet, we understand that just as with any formula, there are several variables that can make or break the goal. The rule: To Be Silent isn’t just for kicks — in quantum physics, the observer (whomever that might be) can and WILL affect your workings. If you know that there is any doubt around you on what you want to do — make a concerted effort to keep your work to yourself. Your silence can make or break your success.
Keeping you work unique also can be very effective, as with the cat I used in the story. If you learn to use unique items (such as the cat) and follow your intuition on how it is to be used, you may find great improvement in your workings. What’s the harm in trying? Who is going to know except you? Go for it!
Have a unique magickal tool story to tell? Post it to this blog or visit my website at http://www.silverravenwolf.com and tell us all about it on the message boards. We’d love to hear! In uniting we learn.
#Halloween #Magick #Cat #Spells #Wicca #Witchcraft #RavenWolf