My religion is not the common one. As you may have already guessed, I am a pagan, a "witch." I am not precisely a Wiccan, though many of my beliefs are similar. I will not, however, make use of this page to tell you of them. This page is dedicated to Talyn Midnight, my familiar for less than a year. The cat above looks somewhat like him, though Talyn's fur was completely black, except for a tiny speck of white at his throat, a speck so small that you might almost think you had imagined it.

I loved Talyn. He was my first familiar, but also the first cat who was ever *my* cat, not my mother's. But after less than a year, I found him on the side of the road. He was not run over by a car. He was half in a plastic bag and looked as if some sick person had taken him and tortured him then left him on the side of the road.

I did not intend this page to be about how sickening I find the abuse of animals. This portion of my site is a simple tribute to the sweet kitten who for a very short time was a part of my life. I lost him about five months ago, and whenever I remember him there's a place in my heart that hurts. I don't know that it will ever stop hurting some. He was my familiar, after all.

He was a smallish cat with a long tail and big batlike ears. He was a little savage, with more wildcat in him than was particularly healthy. The first few months of our acquaintance gave me many scratches on my arms and legs. He didn't mean to hurt me; he was just full of energy and sometimes he thought it was very funny to use me as a tree to get to the counter. At the same time, he was very affectionate. He also had a very penetrating voice.

Here is the poem I wrote for him. Sometimes it makes me smile.

Elegy

I will remember this:
Silken black fur;
Gold eyes with slitted pupils;
Long whiskers;
Tufted wildcat ears;
The few white hairs at your throat;
The way you attacked my shoelaces and braid,
Refusing to let go once you had them;
The way you sat on my shoulder,
Clinging to my t-shirt;
The way you curled up on my lap while I watched television;
The time you tried to climb up my skirt from the inside;
Robin and I throwing Mardi Gras beads,
And watching you chase them across the room;
The April Fools' joke Dad told that you had fallen in the washer and bleached yourself,
Though we had the last laugh, when five minutes later you fell into the full bathtub;
You sleeping on the top of the computer;
You refusing to stay off the counter;
You attacking my face first thing in the morning,
Sweetest alarm clock I ever had;
You insisting on staying in the bathroom with me while I had my shower,
And mewing to get out anyway the minute I was wet;
You knocking ornaments off the Christmas tree,
Totally without conscience;
Most of all, the way you curled up with me under the blankets or on my feet,
My bat-eared demon mole-kitty,
Because of whom, on cold winter nights my feet were never cold.
But now my feet are cold at night,
The ornaments are safe again,
My showers are uninterrupted,
My only alarm clock beeps and buzzes,
No one sits on counter or computer,
There are no jokes about a bleached cat,
No one chases my Mardi Gras beads,
I watch television alone,
My shoulder does not feel your weight,
No one attacks my shoelaces or braid,
And you never will again.

It always hurts to lose a loved one, and Talyn, as you can see, was very special to me. I loved him so much. I wish this small page to serve as perpetual incense to his memory, to the affectionate, active, loving, little cat he was. As they say on Darkover, may that memory lighten grief. Return to the Chapel.