Foster Cats

ByElizabeth

On Saturday night, two foster cats were delivered to my house.  I have been living without any pets for almost a year.  I have only spent six years of my life — three of my college years, two of my law school years, and this past year after my cats of 21 and 18 whom I had adopted in 1988 left their bodies — without a cat or dog (or gerbil, hamster, rabbit) in the house.  Early in the year I was grieving.  As the year progressed, I came up with different reasons why I wasn’t ready to, or shouldn’t get another cat.  In the last month or two, I noticed that I had not gotten a cold since Becky passed.  I was starting to think that maybe I had a choice between feeling somewhat empty for the absence of pet energy or being sick.

On Wednesday, I responded rather casually to a plea to find foster home for two adult cats who needed a home because their current home-maker was suffering from cancer and would not be able to keep them.  If they did not find a foster place here right away, they were going to be shipped to Iowa in the cargo hold.  They had already been adopted from a shelter once, and are not a good age for easy adoption at a shelter.  So I have taken them in, theoretically on a temporary basis, but they are growing on me fast.

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    Photo is of exhibit notes at the Rubin Museum in NYC.

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    Moksha

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    I have a set of cards that I keep on my altar that are designed to be used for contemplation.  There are about fifty cards, each of which has a sanskrit word and its meaning.  Just as one gets a fortune cookie randomly or picks a tarot card from a deck, but the message often seems right on point, the word that arises from the card picked from the stack often seems uncannily timely.  Early Saturday morning, after not having used the cards in a few months, I picked a card from the middle of the stack to see if it would help guide my contemplation and meditations as I was getting ready to say good-bye to Becky. The word on the card I picked blind from the middle of the stack was “moksha” or liberation.  In classical yoga, moksha does carry with it the implication of being liberated by transcending body and mind.

    Later on Saturday, when I was on my way home from teaching for the appointment with the vet, I stopped at the metaphysical supply shop for a piece of rose quartz (to use in a ritual to assist with the transition and loss that a friend taught me).  At the check out were “dolphin saying cards.”  There was a sign next to the cards inviting customers to take one for free.  The sign also said that it was not necessary to take the one at the top.  The cards were face down; I did not look for a particular saying.  I dug a few cards down, and the one I selected read:  “freedom has its roots within yourself.”  In other words, “moksha” for the second time on this day, when I was facing with Becky her transition of the spirit from the body.

    Was it a message?  Was it a coincidence?  I do know that I knew when it was time, as I did with Henrietta.  Becky just did not want to be embodied anymore.  When I held her in her arms after she stopped breathing, she was released and relaxed in a way she had not been in months.  That the signs were saying “moksha” resonated with Becky’s power and connectedness.  I hope that when I am ready to go, I will truly understand moksha, that I will be released.  It is so resonant of Becky’s life, for all her quirks, that she was still teaching me even as she was dying.

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