Cats and Dream-walking

My cat Gabriel sits in my lap as I type on my pink laptop, a laptop that’s lasted since 2007.  Forget your poisonous Apples, Sony is an awesome brand.   My laptop also serves as Gabriel’s personal TV for her Nova bear shows and Youtube videos of foxes.   Computers are not the only bonding time for Gabbie and me. Gabriel is a very special cat – she’s a dream-walker.

The mythology of dream walking says it’s more than just astral travelling – dream walking is the ability to walk into the dreams of others.  A dream-walker can also walk between the worlds, sometimes developing a very adept dream compass.  The dream-walker is more than just lucid; she’s interacting with other beings, other people.  Conventional online wisdom states that a Dream-walker is an incorporeal being that can walk into the dreams of others, often citing such an entity a “demon”.  (I’m not into demonizing these days.  I don’t even demonize “demons”.)  Some sources will say that it’s just not night dreams, but day dreams.

In Cherokee folklore, the notion of dream-walking is prevalent.  Many cultures consider dreams to be more than merely night-brain babbling.  From Gaul to ancient Mesopotamia, dreams can be insight into one’s personal psyche as well as messages from other worlds.  If you listen to your dreams, you may find premonitions, inspirations and wisdom.  One interesting character that shows up in Abrahamic religions as well as Neopaganism:  Gabriel.  Whether male, female, or androgynous, Gabe is known as the dream angel.

My dreams have inspired many aspects of my life.  I dreamed about my husband before I met him.  Many of my fairy tales are my dreams.  But one of the most unusual abilities is the knack for dreaming of my cats before they come to me.  A month before I found Morgana’s litter on the side of a road, I dreamt of a fluffy tortoiseshell cat, black and orange.  Why was I dreaming of this certain cat?  Was it the feral cat I’d seen on my uncle’s farm?  Or a cat I’d briefly fostered?  Nope.  Weeks later, I found Morgan and her litter.  Morgan, insistent on riding all the way home on my shoulders, was destined to be my cat.  I weaned all five kittens, placing three in good homes.  Morgan and Luna Belle stayed with me.

Gabriel’s been a spit-fire from day one.  The dream I had of Gabbie was so persistent and specific that I actually contacted a local cat rescue group.  My dream cat was medium length in fur, black with a chocolate under coat, and eyes so orange they could be brown.  The natural length and shape of the coat was more like a fox than a cat.  Also, it was a male cat.  In my dream, the black cat sat on my chest peering intently into my face.  It was so real that I awoke looking for my black cat.  A week later I received a call from the rescue group. They had three, five day-old kittens in need of a surrogate mother.  With kittens so young, you have to keep them wrapped up in a warm bed.  You even have to burp them.  I took the three black kittens.  And one was Gabe.  Gabriel was a male for the first month of her life.  Each time we took her to the vet, they rechecked.  Then, somewhere after the first month, Gabe turned into a female.  Her name suits her.  Her other two sisters, Fatimah and Hypatia, stayed with us.  I’m the only mother they have known.  One morning I awoke with Gabbie’s little, black-tufted fur face in my mine.  Her eyes were so orange they looked brown…just as my dream foretold.

If I hadn’t of listened to my dreams, my life may have turned out differently.  If I were without my husband or cats, my life certainly would be very, very sad.  I don’t listen to the advice, recycled regrets or sanctimonious opinions of others.  I listen to my dreams.  And my dreams have saved my life.