This is Potato, my witch-cat. She’s not a familiar, not the receptacle for a helper spirit. She is a fully participating member of our coven, though she hasn’t taken the coven class yet.
Potato came to Samhain. She noshed with us beforehand as we noshed. She sat by the scrying mirrors as we scried. She took part in the divination.
This Samhain, we had a visitor who brought with her a pendulum and divination cloth that said, yes, no, maybe, and don’t want to answer.
We tried a few questions. The visitor said, “I’m getting a strong feeling that someone in the room has an unanswered question.”
A couple of us shrugged and said the question wasn’t ours. One of us had a query about college, though it wasn’t a burning one. “I still feel like there’s an open question,” our visitor said. “I’m getting strongly the answer is yes.”
We walked through every person there—“Is it her? Or her?”—but no.
All eyes turned to the furry person by the fireplace. “Is the question from Potato?”
The pendulum swung to Yes.
I realized that in getting ready for the ritual, which was a little earlier than usual, I’d forgotten something important. “Does Potato want dinner?” I asked.
Yes.
It’s the long way around, to ask for your kibble by pendulum, but it works.