This post is inspired by Question #11 on this list.
The current queen of the Harris household. Taken 17 January 2020.
I have grown up all my life with pets. Currently, Joe and I share our home with Precious, the delightful sixteen year old dilute tortie pictured in this post. I had both cats and dogs when I lived with my parents and hope to add a dog to our family at some point in the future.
I have never considered any of my pets familiars. I have met many people who seem to think that merely being a witch means that any pet they have is a familiar. To each their own, but that’s not how I see it personally. For me to consider an animal a familiar, that animal would have to enhance or aid in my Craft in some palpable way to me. That’s never happened.
But even if she’s only a pet rather than a familiar, you gotta admit that our current fur-baby is downright adorable, right?
Precious loves going outdoors. Because I live in the suburbs, she’s only allowed to go outdoors when I’m home and able to be right there with her, or at least puttering around the house nearby. What this means is that once the warmer weather gets here each Spring, we often spend a half hour or so with the front door open after I get home from work. Often, I’ll sit on the porch playing with my iPhone — often waiting for whatever delivery person is bringing me the food I ordered — as she wanders around the bushes and sidewalk in front of our townhouse and the neighbors’ places. Every now and then I might look up and call to her to see where she is.
Often, she’ll explore for five minutes or so, then come running to find me, just to make sure I haven’t disappeared. I like it because it reassures me that she hasn’t wandered too far, where I’d have to worry about unfriendly people, careless drivers, or other animals.
Often, I’ll let her out for a few minutes while I’m getting ready for work as well. Convincing her to go play at these times isn’t always easy however. She’ll often keep coming back in the house and staring at me as if to say, “Well? Aren’t you coming out too?”
Of course, she’s really in her element on those occasions when she’s staying with my parents while I travel. They live in an extremely rural area, so they don’t have to worry about cars or unfriendly people (even the friendly people are rarely less than several thousand feet from their home. Because of this, she feels more free — and we all feel more comfortable letting her — roam a bit farther and for a bit longer. There are times when she will explore for over an hour only to come to a door so she can come in, get some affection, and grab a bite to eat. After that, she may wander off to get a nap or ask to go right back outdoors.
I also admit that given her poor health when I first adopted her, I enjoy watching her explore and play. It’s fun to watch her sniff at every flower, tree, and shrub she comes across. It’s fun to watch her check out the birds or even chase them (she hasn’t quite figured out how the whole hunting thing actually works). I look at her and think, gee, I love that she’s still such an active cat at the ripe age of nine and a half years old.
In a few hours, I’ll be heading down to my parents’ house to spend the night and collect my little darling, Precious. I sent her to stay with her grandparents almost two weeks ago while I was traveling to Canada. I’ll be happy to bring her back home with me, as my place seems too quiet without her. I’ve already started mistaking a lump of wadded up sheets for her laying next to me or thinking I heard her meowing at different intervals.
I think that having her around also tends to make me feel better about myself and not fall into depression so easily. I remember the first time I moved out of my parents’ home — in the late 1990’s. At that time, I had my cat, Strype. However, I left him at my parents’ house as the apartment I moved into did not allow for pets. Also, Strype was such an old cat, I wasn’t sure I wanted to make him leave my parents home or his litter-mate, who had been a part of his whole life. As a result, that apartment was dull and quiet and left me feeling quite lonely. (Granted the massive things I was dealing with at that point in my life didn’t help, either.)
When I moved to Rochester, though, I knew I needed to bring Precious with me. Part of that was due to the fact that although I’ve always had a good relationship with my other cats, Precious and I seem to share a sort of bond I’ve never experienced before. I’ve never had a cat before that is as clingy as she can be. (She’ll spend the next few days giving me the stink-eye every time I head for the door, as if to say, “You already disappeared for several days, Bub! Where do you think you’re going now???”) So when I moved up here, I made a point of making sure I found a place where I could have a cat. That and having washer and drier hookups were my two major non-negotiable items.
The thoughts of a gay witch living in upstate New York.
