Hattie


I love living in the "wild."

I love living in the “wild.”

Hattie left the physical realm in the fall of 2015 after I found a small lump on her rib cage. 

She told me afterwards that she had no desire to be sick.

She found a predator who helped her depart quickly.

Hattie was a “semi-feral” cat who lived in our yard for over 8 years.  I think of her as “semi-feral” because on the first day we met, she made eye contact and responded to “Hear kitty, kitty,” both of which indicated some earlier human contact.

Hattie wasn’t used to being touched and I was never able to pick her up.  She allowed me to touch her most mornings when I fed her, but then, sometimes not for many days in a row.  I could tell by her ribs how she was doing weight-wise, and adjusted her daily “handout” accordingly.  I thought of her as my “hobo kitty” for many years.  It wasn’t until nearly the end of her life with us that I realized she had become part of the family.

Hattie liked Violet, Sakhara, and Starlight, and I know they all chatted together.  While she was living here, she participated in many Animal Communication workshops as part of the faculty, and did a superb job helping my students to expand their telepathic skills and their ways of thinking about cats who live outdoors.

Here’s what Hattie asked me to share with you when I first introduced her here.

Nedda calls me “Hattie,” and I answer to that name, but of course cats have their secret names that their mothers give them, and I’ll never tell mine to anyone.

So I’m Hattie to you and to her.  I’ve learned to survive outside and I wouldn’t trade my life for anything.  Yes, there are hard times, like winter blizzards with deep snow when it’s hard to find prey to eat and one year my nose was frost bitten, but I survived.

I know that Nedda has helped me survive by feeding me, and she gives me extra in very cold, wet weather.  She has even offered to have me stay on the porch in the winter, but I prefer my own place, my own space, my own way to be and to live.

I really don’t trust people and I have good reason for that, but I do like to speak with them telepathically.  I get to teach in Nedda’s classes, and that means I can tell people about how important it is for a cat to live in nature and be a real cat.

I don’t want to offend the others, but how can you be a real cat if you don’t know how to hunt for your own food, or the first delicious bite after you kill it?

How can you be a real cat if you can’t climb trees and escape predators by being clever and outwitting them?

How can you be a real cat if you can’t run and run and run for a long way and feel the energies of it fill your own body?

How can you be a real cat if you can’t smell a storm coming, sniff catnip growing, roll on Mother Earth, and keep your own claws neat, clean and trimmed?

These are the things that matter most to me, and I’m happy that I live as a real cat.

 

 

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