Purposeful and fearlessly friendly…when the big orange tom came up to me in my backyard late one evening and butted his head against my shin, purring, it was clear he wanted to get acquainted. And as I stroked his rough, dusty fur, and my fingers found the hot, swollen abscess at the base of his tail, I understood why: this cat needed help.
“Are you looking for someone to take you in, Big Boy?” I asked him, administering my screening test: I scooped hm up into my arms, beginning to flow Reiki. His claws gripped my shoulder and his head snuggled under my chin as he purred madly. “OK, but you’re going to have to get along with my Herd,” I told him. The purr never wavered. “By the way, what’s your name?” The thought came to mind: Junior. Odd, with his size, but….”OK, Junior it is,” I said, and brought him indoors.
As I introduced him to the Herd, keeping him safely in my arms, Junior sniffed inquisitively at my cats’ curious faces as they surrounded him, but he showed no signs of fear or aggression – just a massive calm. I carried him to my makeshift cat infirmary, set up food, water, and litterbox, and called the animal ER to alert them we’d be in for an exam and lancing for the abscess. Junior meanwhile swung into a kitty yoga asana and began licking his sore. I nudged his face aside and gently palpated the lump to find its size: roughly an inch in diameter, hard, hot, and obviously painful.
“Will you let me see what I can do to make you more comfortable before we go, fella?” I said, standing up and placing my hands on his shoulder blades, and he stood up with his hindquarters toward me, perfectly still and receptive. I let the Reiki flow, and we were both enjoying the powerful energy when I heard a soft popping sound and felt sticky wetness spreading across my shoulder and armpit, and down my arm. The abscess, which I’d been careful not to touch further, had spontaneously burst, and a surprising quantity of pus was dripping from my T-shirt.
Junior looked back inquisitively, his ears perked forward and his eyes bright. “You’re feeling better, aren’t you, guy?” I said as I reached for my phone to redial the ER. “Tell the doctor that no lancing is needed now, just an exam and antibiotics,” I told the receptionist.
Today, Junior (a.k.a. Studs Bearcat) is the elder tom and leader of my Herd: keeping the young guys in line, tending to the ladies, and protecting the youngsters. He’s Reiki-attuned himself, and is always the first to show up with his massive calm when anyone, feline or human, is in distress.