In my last update, I disclosed that I have adopted two cats. Their names are Ever and Koiya (although my mom will probably call Koiya “Chloe” — that’s OK). The names are both shortened versions of their shelter names.
It took me a while to think of what to call the amber-eyed one because she responded so well to the name she had had on the pet adoption site, but it’s a Native American name that was given to a national park, and I thought it best to avoid using it because I don’t have a connection to the tribe the name is from. Koiya has similar vowels, a velar stop, and a semivowel, and to my knowledge, it doesn’t exactly match a name in any language, although it comes close to a few. Chloe combines the same elements in a different way. I asked around because I wanted to know what people thought, and almost everyone I approached (except my mom) preferred Koiya to Chloe because it’s uncertain luck to majorly change an animal’s name once they know theirs. One person was even aghast that I’d consider shortening it to Koiya.
Ever, the green-eyed one, was way simpler. I suppose I could also call her Everlee if I want to sound posh on occasion. She is very active and has sometimes tackled her (much chonkier) sister. And her sister has taken it. Ever is in love with dry food and is much harder to diet-transition than her sister. Koiya loves almost all food as long as it is shredded.
On the 6th day of the lunar calendar (which was also the first day of Thargelia — I hope everyone reading had a good celebration if it’s one of your holidays!), I asked Artemis to bless their collars. I have not managed to put the collars on them yet — they’ve only been with me for three weeks, and we only met on May 2 — but as we all settle in and get used to one another, I’m sure that the opportunity will come.
When I brought them home, I prayed to Artemis (informally, because my shrine was still covered) a lot. There’s a chant that I learned from a website a long time ago and which I sing for Artemis with a slightly different melody. I chanted that a few times early on in the adoption, during the first few days of being with them when they hid a lot or jumped at my sudden movements and I felt unmoored and uncertain about what I had gotten myself into with these girls. The chant is so simple and straightforward that it’s easy to vary the notes and the style in which it is chanted. I felt so supported when I chanted and had full faith that my anxieties were storm clouds that would pass. Everything would be OK thanks to the Goddess.
Now that my shrine is uncovered, they’re getting used to me praying a few times a day at it. Neither of them has, at this point, touched anything on it — nor have they touched my ancestor/underworld shrine. I’m not sure if that’s them being cats who have a good sense of what is sacred or if they just haven’t gotten there yet, but I have a feeling that they do know.
As self-domesticated purr-fect predators who inhabit the boundary between what is wild and what is tame, in the image of the Gods, they are as awe-inspiring as Hekate, as boundary-breaking as Dionysos, and as free as Artemis, whether she roams with her bow and arrows in the mountains or she puts aside her overt wildness to dance with the Muses and the Graces to the sound of her brother’s music (as in one hymn to her). And may these and all Gods bless our coming together. 💛🙏💛
KALLISTI 