Binx

Binx lived here

He lived Here

This was where Binx first lived with us

Binx lived here with us

Binx lived here

see?

I dreamed of Binx this morning.  Or something.  It was very vivid.  I feel more like he came to me, though.  I felt like he had honored me with a visit. I was immersed in being with him for a few moments at last and I guess it was very real, but also it felt like part of me was completely aware that it was a dream for the most part. 

At first, I asked if he needed a place to stay, if he was going to stay, that he could find me and come here, that I would take care of him, that if I couldnt I’d find a place for him to go nearby where he’d be happy, Marci came to mind, she’s met him and I know she really liked him.  I had a visual flash of Marci at her house (she was on her side, sleeping), it was like Binx and I we were communicating telepathically.  I never felt that he confirmed that but I went on, expressing that if he needed a place to go or wanted a place I would even find a place of my own just to make sure he was taken care of.  Around then was when that’s when I felt that no that’s not what was going on. >>>>>>>> The entire thing never felt like the word ‘no’ though it was much more than words it was like the most gentle most polite decline of my offers, but not a ‘decline,’ the word doesn’t describe the feeling of gentleness towards my mental and emotional state, I felt completely comfortable and aware and like delicately enveloped in peacefulness and love, but love is too strong of a word, like almost the atmosphere, the feeling the entire time was like I was the contents of a Handle With Care boxed item and the person handling the box and contents actually cared and was being so careful to not disturb or cause damage to something they very much cared for. >>>>>>

The strongest emotion was when I was petting him, my fingers going through his dark fur, lighter underneath, thick, soft, clean Binx kitty fur, his cheeks and the sides of his core area where it was thickest.  Beginning at the sides of his face and moving both hands towards his butt, I felt joyful, happy, excited/titillated in what I was doing, almost like I shared his pleasure somehow, in the way I pet him and how it made him feel.  That’s the impression I had. So the declination I received to my offer of a physical home, it was more like the ideas I sent were replaced with another idea, or ideas, other flashes of pictures. 

I felt that he had come to say goodbye to me.  I had a flash of him older, not healthy as when I’d pet him, of his body worn and depleted; done.  Grayed, dried, harsh. It was very brief, the flash of that.  This is when I began waking up, and questioning how much of the experience was what I was influencing and how much of it was Binx. 

The entire time I was in the Binx awareness, I believed that in some way, Binx had come to me.  I felt like I  was making up the ‘goodbye’ part and I was trying to sort it out mentally as I woke.  That was my main concern, was sorting out what of the communication that we’d had was made up by me - all of it?

I woke slowly, very much engrossed in trying to figure out what had actually happened.  Wondering if I had made up the entire thing (no).  Comparing it to the encounter with Jack I’d had that had been so heavily impressed on me to tell my ex-boyfriend, Matthew, about it, even though the dream had seemed unremarkable to me and kind of silly, it had been peaceful and seemed like a desperate for attention thing to do.  But I couldn’t shake this heavy feeling of I had to tell Matthew, I had to tell him about seeing Jack, I had to tell him about my experience with Jack. 

When I succumbed to the relentless feeling of having to tell Matthew about my Jack dream, Matthew disclosed he had been heavily mourning Jack the night I experienced time with the fluffy cat.  I’d Co-habituated with Jack and his surrogate mom kitty, Josie, over the years that I was in a relationship with Matthew. I was on wonderful terms with the creatures, friendly terms. I didn’t have any negative experiences, they were beautiful, fun, interesting, sweet. I’m definitely a cat person. I think I was good to them; I occasionally brought them treats and gave them food and fresh water. Might have been an ass stick about the litter box.

I wondered this morning for the first time if maybe Matthew was the one who telepathically impressed upon me somehow his need for his friend, his pain over the loss, and that I had somehow picked up on that and created a situation that would help Matthew feel comforted, that would be exactly what he needed to hear to find peace over the situation.  That life after life isn’t like we think it is, if it is at all, that no energy is going to visit us after departure from this timeline, especially not an animal, a pet; a cat.

A bit later in the morning, I recalled flashes I had of where we were staying when Binx disappeared, about him disappearing and reluctantly, almost obligatorily - out of duty - reappearing in Kirkland.  I remember having that distinct impression and sharing it with Max - it’s like he doesn’t want to come back, but he feels obligated to.  Like a family loyalty duty obligation.

I remember seeing Binx for the first time after the storm.  In the light of a streetlight, across from me, across the street? Lollygagging, seeming reluctant. Looking fat and full. Fat like Thanksgiving meal fat with grease and crumbs all over your rumpled, dirty, mess of a shirt and top button undone Thanksgiving khakis.

I’d been so so worried and fretful about him being out in the storm in a new city.  I saw him again and he was fat and he was like still licking his chompers after a filet mignon dinner hollandaise sauce brunch at the 4 Seasons 5th Season Sunday Brunch I swear to God Binx had gained weight in 3-4 days and lazily, begrudgingly walked up to me and my chaos energy. 

I had a flash of that and I had a flash of when he did leave and what happened to us/me after that, and Binx had known.  He knew there was no future ahead for him, for us, for me, and that was his final exit point.  He stayed until the end, until it would have been suicide for him to stay any longer.  Binx knew.  He showed me so that I would know why he had left.  I wondered if the birds had wanted to leave, wished for an exit point, but were denied lives of freedom as Binx had, the freedom to leave and the trust of return to ‘home.’  I felt bad for keeping them from freedom, for keeping them ‘safe.’

Also. The fact that Binx could have left before that.  It would have been more kush for him, that life in Kirkland he’d apparently easily found.  But he knew there was more time.  I can’t speak for him, but that’s the impression I received.  It mattered to him.  I mattered to him, I do matter to him.  He came to me.  After time to clear my head and do the math, I feel very certain that it 

And then the cat - I haven’t had a cat follow me in years, and haven’t encountered a cat that friendly on a night walk in just as long, and not ever in Leschi.  I’ve seen like 99% bunnies there.  Maybe one cat or two.  I think i’ve spotted more racoons than cats in Leschi at night.

The name Dory

Haven the same day woke up from his nap and told me he’d had a bad dream.  It was a bad dream because it had made him sad.  He couldn’t say why it made him sad.  He said it was about driving race cars. 

He’d woke from his nap and I brought him to the bedroom.  I laid with him a long time, in and out of consciousness.  No dreams that I remember.   But I spoke to him after I laid him down, I had been calling him my baby but then said no he’s not a baby. 

I started talking at Haven about something like I used to when he was very little, a fantastical scenario where I’m attempting to convince “grown up” race cars that Haven is not a baby race car. 

>>>>>something I haven’t done with him since that time ago, and have only remembered and briefly reflected on less than a handful of times, even though it’s an adorable little fantasy skit <<<

...Hes not a racecar, yes, I’m sure, I’m so sorry, but he’s just not.  Not even a baby race car. He’s a real boy, his name is Haven.   He’s not a race car or a baby race car. He has sweet baby feet. Maybe, if he practices all the time and really tries to figure out how to successfully do it, maybe he will be a race car driver of a real race car one day.

> >This was the first time Haven has ever volunteered information about dreaming, or talked at all about personally experiencing a “bad dream.”

That evening, Haven and I went for a rare after-dark walk and a cat appeared.  It wore a belled collar that jingled when he walked.  It was a blue collar.  The cat was gray with dark stripes on his underside.  He was smaller sized and seemed younger.  He was very curious and very friendly.  He followed us as we walked.  We thought we were leaving him behind, but then heard the jingle of him as he trotted behind.  Like Binx. 

Binx used to follow me/us on walks, especially at nighttime.  He would hide behind things and then run at us from the back, run ahead and ambush us as we walked past him.  There was only so far he would go.  This cat, too, a certain place was where he stopped, but met us again near there on our way back.  He followed us half the way back to the apartment  - right about half way.  

Right before we met him, I noticed a beam of light piercing the dark and up into the sky, from maybe the stadium, up into forever.  Very impressive beam.  It was there even on our walk back and until it was out of our line of sight over the hill and south of us.