Dan, Inka and The Goddess
Straight after Eden Festival where Dan had lost and found his Elf ears, The National Elf Service took the Mystic Sauna to Knockengorrock Festival, also in Scotland, where Dan and I had met exactly three years before.
We were travelling in my van with my black cat Inka and our rescued grass snake Ziggy.
Ziggy was a wild grass snake that had been dragged out of a bush on our mooring by our neighbour’s dog. The terrier had mauled her and her body was punctured many times by his teeth.
Because I have a flashing neon sign above my head that says ‘WITCH’, people always bring me young or injured animals that need looking after, or very often the animals manage to turn up at my door on their own. So inevitably I ended up with the injured grass snake. She required daily herbal baths to heal her wounds, and so we took her with us on our Scottish tour with The National Elf Service. My festy crew were used to me travelling with my cats, but bringing a snake to the festivals was unusual even for me!
It was the Friday night of the festival and we were just finishing setting up the Mystic Sauna to opened it to the public. Tim and I were inside, testing it out and getting the wood burning stove hot enough for the sauna to function properly. The heat was just getting up to a decent level and Tim went to go and get more wood. When he came back in, he looked at me and said “Jo, I think you need to go out and see Dan. Inka has been badly hurt.”
I rushed out and found Dan in a right old state, holding Inka who looked like he was dying.
My cat was twitching in spasms and Dan told me what had happened.
He had gone to close the van side door and Inka had got a shock from the noise and tried to jump out just as the door closed. His head had been caught in the door as it closed hard against the van. His eye had popped out and Dan told me how he had pushed his eye back in because although he thought he had just killed my cat, he didn’t want me to see Inka with his eye hanging out.
He also told me that he had prayed and begged every God and Goddess he had ever heard me mention, to save Inka. He had even offered his own life to the Gods in exchange for his own if only they would spare the life of my cat.
Its amazing how when humans are in desperate need, they will suddenly turn to the Gods that they claimed not to believe in beforehand. And so is the dance between Life and Death.
It was about 9pm on the Friday night of Knockengorrock festival. This was the exact time we had met, in exactly the same place three years before. It was our third anniversary, literally to the hour and even the location. This synchronicity did not pass me by.
We rustled help from other crew members and friends to try to find a mobile phone that had both battery power and signal in this back water of Scotland, to try to find the nearest veterinary practise.
After making a few phone calls, Dan and I tatted down the van and set off in the darkness. We drove to the nearest town about 45 minutes away, and the lovely elderly Scottish lady vet welcomed us in when we arrived.
The first thing she did was to give Inka some Rescue Remedy for the shock, and I thought to myself “This is my kind of vet!”
(For those not in the know, Rescue Remedy is a vibrational flower essence. It has no medicinal value, and is essentially homeopathic, working on the energy field to energetically calm the symptoms of shock or trauma.)
She then assessed him, gave him a steroid injection to protect his brain from the cranial swelling that was happening, and told us that she would keep him there overnight and that we should check in with her in the morning to see if he survived the night.
Dan and I went back to the van that was parked right outside the vet’s, and bedded down for the night.
As we were lying in bed, we were both upset and worried, and Dan felt terrible about what had happened. He once again told me how he had called all the Gods and Goddesses by every name he’d ever heard me use. He told me again how he’d offered his life in exchange for Inka’s.
He told me how he’d basically prayed for the first time in his life, and how sorry he was about what had happened.
The terrible irony was that I had done exactly the same thing with another of my black cats several years before. As I went to shut the van side door, Little Minx had jumped in exactly the same manner, and her head had been squashed in-between the door and the van in exactly the same way as had happened to Inka on this night. Little Minx had died in my arms a matter of minutes later.
I had written a poem called ‘The Cat-a-logues’ that detailed this experience, along with many other tragic tales about my Black Cats, and I had recited it that night in our camp at Knockengorroch, upon request, about an hour before Dan squashed Inka in the van side door.
This had been another of the Dark Lessons of Death that my many black cats helped me to learn, as I had a flurry of losing five black cats over a period of five years. They were my teachers and the physical embodiments of the Black Panther Medicine, for my own understanding of the Reality Paradigm of Death. That night, however, Dan was the recipient of this particularly harsh Black Cat lesson.
The next morning, we went into the vet’s to see how Inka was doing. He had made it through the night, but was not in a good way. We explained to the vet how we were working at the festival, and she suggested that she keep him until the end of the festival, under medical care and observation, and that when we were ready we could come and pick him up. This plan seemed to work well for everyone, so we set off in the van, back to Knockengorrock.
As we were driving, Dan told me about a strange experience that he had through the night while we were parked up outside the vet’s.
He described how when we had gone to bed and he started drifting off to sleep, he became aware of a huge female figure who knelt down beside the van, between the van and the vet’s practise. Dan said he didn’t know who she was, and that he couldn’t see her face because she was so big, like a huge giant.
He told me how he woke up several times through the night, and every time he awoke, she was still there, kneeling between us and the vet’s.
I asked him who he thought she was. He told me he didn’t know.
I asked him about his call for help to The Goddess, and suggested that maybe She was answering his request. I could feel his discomfort at the possibility of this explanation, and yet when we got back to the festival site, he relayed this story to several people, and added as a caveat that maybe I had been right about the existence of all these Gods and Spirits after all.
Being on the land, in the magical pine forests of Scotland gave Dan’s Magical Elf Self far greater power within the ongoing battle over his own Reality Paradigm. The fact that even the wise old witchy Scottish vet gave Inka a remedy that Dan would consider to be nothing but water, challenged the Atheist Scientist on his own turf of Medical Science.
We saw out the festival, picked Inka up and took him home to begin his slow but steady recovery to full health after being diagnosed with cranial fractures and a broken collar bone.
Once home, it became clear to me, as I nursed both a very damaged cat and a very damaged snake back to health, that this was a test for me, as a Cat and Serpent Medicine Woman, to see if I could indeed walk my talk and heal those creatures that lent me their own power in my healing work. Both Inka and Ziggy regained full health. The Medicine Woman passed her Test with flying colours. We released Ziggy back to the wild when her injuries were fully healed, and Inka is still prowling the waterways of Yorkshire, after he adopted Stan, a homeless man, after I left Dan and The Kraken.