familiars
The Girl Who Healed Animals At The Pet Cemetery
I grew up in Germany. My dad, coming from an extremely poor background, worked his hands to the bones to provide a roof over our heads and food on the table. Mom and dad married when she was only 19 and we lived in a house built beside my grandfather’s on a small farm.
My maternal grandfather was a pharmacist and had bought the land on the hill, where he built his house after he came back from the war. He had been imprisoned in France. Times were hard, but the land my grandfather was able to purchase the land at a low price. It was the last lot on the hill, before the heavily forested area, and it was an old pet cemetery, which was unknown at the time.
Around the time I went to high school, I started finding injured animals. Or maybe they found me? The first was a black bird with a broken wing. I brought her home and named her Raven. I learned how to feed her, and how to stabilize the wing so it could heal.
The next animal was a mouse. She had a bloody foot and was almost frozen to the ground. She was barely alive and seemed relieved as I picked her up and carried her home. I put her in a terrarium I had inherited from my brother, after he had used it for his ‘frog project’ in school. His 143 tadpoles turned into frogs all over the backyard, and mom was livid! Thanks for my Dad, they all moved to a pond.
My next surprise guest was a black cat. I came home from soccer practice and there he was, sitting on my desk in my room. It was a problem, because mom did not want any pets in the house! Period. I could hide the small animals, but what to do with a big, black cat?
I begged my parents to let me keep Fritzi. He was like a dog. He followed me wherever I went. My family voted for Fritzi to stay, on mom’s condition that he sleep on the porch. But, of course, Fritzi the black cat slept on my pillow instead. Sadly he was killed after a few months, when I called him for lunch and a car ran him over. I was devastated. Heartbroken.
Our Healing Circle Of Cats
I belong to a healing meditation group for women. We gather in a circle and discuss the past week’s goings on, and also direct healing energy to anyone who needs it. Many of the members in the group are lightworkers. Some of them may not have been aware of the true extent of their spiritual abilities, when they first joined the group, but as they continued attending they learned many things to open up, expand, and develop their spiritual gifts and talents.
Our most recent gathering was especially interesting to me. As usual, we were passing the ‘talking stick’ around. This custom comes from an ancient Native-American tradition of tribal democracy. The talking stick is passed around in the group, enabling the group members to speak in turn.
The first lady to share was a very wise women, and of the kindest people I have ever met. She talked about rude one of her family members were to her recently, for no reason at all. She also shared how she “about had it” with her brother. He is constantly criticizing her, and looking down his nose at her. Apparently, he feels she doesn’t live a ‘normal life’ and he does not appreciate, among other things, her work as a Reiki practitioner and an energy healer.
A few other women then also shared stories of their unfortunate dealings with family and friends, who were very judgmental and condescending about their spiritual interests and practices.
When it came to be my turn to share, I was very open about how I had decided I was not going to attend an upcoming family wedding, because the father of the relative getting married is a very bigoted and unpleasant man,. He is racist, has no respect for anyone, and is very controlling. Simply put – he is a hater.