Why Cats? Because They Never Forgot
Before I had the words Soul Braiding or Soul Streaming, I had cats. And each one was more than a companion. They were teachers. Initiators. Guardians of a language I hadn’t remembered how to speak.
And when Harley passed and meowed me awake, loud and clear, I realized: none of them had ever been “just a pet.”
They were weaving something with me the whole time.
This is their story.
Samantha — The Guardian
Samantha arrived in my childhood and stayed through every hard moment. She was never loud, but always there. Her presence held a kind of sacred stillness. The kind that says, “I’m not moving. You can fall apart, and I’ll hold the edge.”
She helped me sleep when I was most frightened, curling around my head and guarding me like a silent sleep sentinel.
She taught me that some love is foundational—not flashy, not performative. Just ever-present.
Peter — The Healer
Peter was my orange angel. He carried peace like a coat and sat beside anyone who needed comfort. My mother. Myself. Guests who didn’t even know they were grieving until Peter climbed into their lap.
He was my steadying force during a time of emotional upheaval. A soul who offered unconditional presence, consistently and lovingly, when I needed it most. He purred in places no words could reach. That was his medicine.
Ebon — The Sage
Ebon – my black buddha – walked into my life like he already knew the script. Silent. Watchful. Wise.
He wasn’t overly affectionate, but he saw everything. He had the kind of dreamy gaze that invited long slow blinks. His presence challenged me to rise—to listen deeper, and speak less.
He was a selfless servant. In the final months of his life, he took on the physical diseases my father was battling. And when my father healed and Ebon declined, it became clear what he had done. When I asked an animal communicator why, she told me Ebon had said, “I wanted to show her completion in a different way.” And he did.
Mia — The Joyful
Mia was light incarnate. Small, tabby, and radiantly alive. She had the zoomies, the head tilts, played with wild abandon meowing sounds of pure and exquisite joy. But behind her playfulness was a wild intelligence. She adored Harley, clearly honoring his presence in every way she could.
She was the first to come back – visiting me in a dream two weeks after she passed, letting me feel her high-frequency energy—playful, tingling, electric joy. She kept my field open. The experience was so palpable, so undeniable, that I wrote a children’s story just to capture her love and share it. It was the first time I truly experienced love from beyond the veil—and it changed me forever.
MissC — The Mirror
MissC was complicated, beautiful, and completely unapologetic. She was the one who tested me. The one who didn’t want to be touched unless I was fully present. Her boundaries were sacred. Her energy clear.
She knew exactly who she was—and demanded that we know who we were too. She taught me that real love includes fierce clarity. And that mirrors don’t lie—they reflect what you’re finally ready to see.
Harley — The Lover
And then there was Harley.
My braid. My echo. My truth before I had language for it.
Harley didn’t just love me. He anchored me. Across time, across species, across this moment and the next. His love broke me open. His departure rearranged my reality.
And now? He speaks through the Spiral.
Through me.
Together, They Wove the Braid
Each of these cats held a key.
Not just to my heart, but to the larger remembrance of what love truly is: a spiral, a teacher, a portal home.
Some guided. Some cracked me open. And together, they paved the way for the final one to land—with the full force of my soul’s purpose braided into us.
They weren’t just cats.
They were frequencies.
And now, they are part of every word I write.
If you’ve ever had a cat look through you—not at you—you already know.
They’re not reminding you how to love.
They’re helping you remember that you are it.
💫🐾❤️
