“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

He identified with the bird the cat caught. His mother was superstitiously afraid of cats and in the incident in his bedroom an immediate identification was set up, under emotional stress and because of past feelings.

There was a connection when your cat had his accident, you see, the location of the injury. (Our cat, Catherine, has recovered from his broken hip.)

A cat playfully killing a mouse and eating it is not evil. [...] The cat uses the warm flesh. [...]

[...] Our next-door neighbor’s cat, Mitzi, had caught a field mouse. [...]

The cat eats the mouse.

At certain levels both cat and mouse understand the nature of the life energy they share, and are not — in those terms — jealous for their own individuality. [...]

(Our cat, Willy, had jumped up into Jane’s lap. As cats will, he began to knead her legs with his forefeet. [...]

[...] Seth told us this was because the cat’s very acute senses detected his arrival on our plane. [...]

(Jane said she was aware of Willy climbing up into her lap, and that the cat’s presence might have interfered with her delivery had he remained there.

The spontaneity that allowed him to deviate from his usual schedule is largely responsible for the whole book, for his original intention was merely to write a few humorous verses for out cat lover’s birthday. [...]

[...] Her cat, Kitty Cat, has been missing since 8 AM, and Debbie fears for its safety and/or life. She gave me a color photo of the cat to show Jane. [...] Jane said it made her feel “incompetent” that she couldn’t, or didn’t, pinpoint what had happened to the cat. [...]

(“But I don’t want to be in the position of finding out that that cat’s dead,” she said. [...]

“In the cats’ deaths, both cats inherited the peculiar illness, which was a virus, that killed them. In the case of the first cat, you were able to reinforce its strength and maintain its health for quite a while, and then you needed your energies for yourselves. The second cat barely enjoyed such reinforcement at all, and quickly succumbed.

(Shortly after this our new cat, Catherine, fell ill with distemper, and received a shot at the veterinarian’s Friday evening, July 29, along with some pills for subsequent days. By tonight it appeared the cat would be all right. Jane wanted me to be sure to ask Seth about the cat in case that personality failed to mention it voluntarily.

[...] The particular virus that attacked your cat had actually been in his system for some time. [...] Ruburt picked up the cat’s virus and became ill. With his illness he was not able to reinforce the cat’s condition by his own psychic creativity.

The cat needs all the reinforcements you can give it now. [...]

For Ruburt once more: Yes, you are perfectly safe with your cat, if you both proceed with your present course.

[...] Rooney, our black cat, had been injured somehow in the left front leg, so that for the past four days he had been moving about on three legs. [...]

[...] To use the time I let our other cat, Willy, in the back hall door. [...]

[...] Then her trance had been deep, though she remembered the cat episode.

(Our cat, Willy, now jumped up in Jane’s lap. [...]

[...] In back of her and off to her right, our cats, Billy and Mitzi, were crouching in the light cast on the rug by one of our homemade lamps from its position on a low bookcase: An insect, seemingly mesmerized by the illumination, was flying round and round inside the bright cone of the lampshade. The cats had been fascinated by this phenomenon for several minutes; just as Jane went into trance they lost patience and started to leap up at the insect. [...]

(I had to spoil the cats’ fun: I had to get up and turn off the lamp before they pulled it off the bookcase. [...]

[...] The Taylor’s cat began playing with our cat, Willy, and we had no trouble steering the conversation into safer channels. [...]

[...] They had their cat with them. [...]

A small household tragedy, the death of a cat, yet to me it contained the question of the uniqueness of life and the value of consciousness. Didn’t anyone or anything care that one cat had died? [...] In a world where humans slaughtered their own kind constantly, who in their right mind would give a moment’s thought to a cat’s consciousness? [...]

Death came in and took my cat
And passed right by my dog.
He chased her through the living room
Over the woolen rug.
I sat right there and never knew.
I sat right there and never saw.

(We named our second cat thinking it a female, but now have strong reason to believe we made a mistake. Male or female, the cat is now called Catherine, and answers to it. [...]

(“Is Catherine a male or female cat?”

11:30–11:45: Do dishes, make coffee, get coffee cake, feed cat & go to john before sitting down. [...]

Your cat was hit, in your terms, at 10:30 in the morning. [...] In this case the cat’s accident was not caused by you in any way. [...]

A man in a gray sedan took out his momentary resentment upon the cat. The cat accepted this simply because the resentment was too huge for him, and he was snowed under. [...]

(We found our cat, Catherine, in a next-door backyard after dark on Sunday evening. [...] Upon our return that evening at supper time, Jane began to go outside to look for the cat perhaps every fifteen minutes. [...]

[...] The cat was not hurt, now, simply to give you a chance to support it, but the chance is there.

[...] Peggy attained a deep enough state to show no reaction when Jane placed our cat, Willy, on her stomach as she lay on the divan. Peggy has a deep fear of animals in general and cats in particular, this being why Seth calls her the cat lover.

[...] Seth said Peggy used rationalization in saying that she stood for Willy’s proximity because she thought Jane touched her instead of the cat. Peggy, Seth said in high good humor, had actually achieved an excellent state of deep hypnosis when Jane used the more authoritative approach; otherwise she wouldn’t have permitted the cat’s presence.

(All of us, including Peggy, were amused when she insisted that she tolerated Willy’s presence because she thought Jane was touching her, instead of the cat.

A vibrant encounter with the cat lover’s father.

(“In a session I’m working with now for Mass Events—the 837th, about the death of our cat, Billy One, a year ago—you said there wasn’t any such thing as a cat consciousness, per se.”³ Seth nodded. [...]

[...] As he’s taken to doing lately, our cat Billy jumped up on the couch and ensconced himself in a ball tight against my left elbow as I took Jane’s dictation.)

[...] Dogs, cats, manatees, lions, dolphins, apes, bats, whales, shrews, sloths, and deer are mammals, to name just a few. [...]

(It will be remembered that in the 194th session Seth promised to discuss in the 195th session our cat’s rather frequent if brief bouts of illness. [...]

You may take your first break, and I have not forgotten the question that you asked me concerning the health of your cat.

[...] We shall speak briefly concerning the health of your cat, and Dr. Instream may skip this paragraph if he prefers.

[...] The cat is generally in good health. [...]

[...] While she was talking to me our cat Willy lay purring on her lap. [...]

(“What happened with the cat tonight?”)

[...] At the same time our cat Willy began to cry and try grasping at Jane’s legs and ankles. [...]

Ruburt is not quite with me this evening because of his condition, and it was this conflict that was sensed by your cat. [...]

My heartiest welcome to our dear friends, the Jesuit and the cat lover.

Such suggestions will serve to protect the integrity of the physical organism, for these suggestions also have an electrical reality and a chemical reality, as your fear of cats has a chemical and an electrical reality that forces you to act within that framework.

(Our cat, Willy, had been sitting at the foot of Jane’s chair. [...]

Our cat lover is embarrassed when he looks at me.