now i understand how the witches and familiars work. i think i do.not how the witches work, not how familiars work, but the and bit.
my cat is back. freshly carried in from the yard, somewhat timid, scarred, thin as a rake (with a lot of fur on), and white as the melting snow (which is rather..grey). and hungry like a pack of very hungry animals. and he smells of … old hay, and strangely, coal-dust, and railway sleepers and tar.
i wonder where he’s been and what he’s been doing. now he has eaten a handful of cat-food, drunk half a mug of water, and is grooming himself, getting rid of burrs, dirt and the general greyness.
the world has acquired the acuteness of smell and the sharpness of touch which seemed to have gone out of it when he was away from the reaches of our bond. i so understand how people could think this bond to be magic. because it feels like magic.
my one and only, and fabulous cat is back. it is like the smell of orange and cinnamon, with some lemon twang. or like the taste of marinated meat fried over the embers of a camp-fire in pine forest. or like deep, dreamless sleep in the security of late spring during apple-blossom.
getting to poetic here. my cat is back, and alive. and god is great and indeed merciful.