“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] At the same time she described what seemed to be a very positive dream she’d had early this morning, involving her dying her hair black, a white cat, and Claire Crittenden. [...] The white cat could mean a new clean start.

[...] Jane and I were saddened Monday morning to discover that our black cat, Rooney, had died unexpectedly during the night. [...]

(Because of his particular disposition, Rooney had furnished ideal companionship for our other cat, Willy, who is several years older, and Jane and I had often speculated about the special relationship between the two. [...]

[...] This morning I took the cats to the vet, with far less trouble than I had feared. [...]

[...] Some of my questions grew out of my taking the cats for treatment of fleas and ticks, I told Jane, and I repeated the questions today.

[...] The cat focuses upon one thing at a time even though it has no strong ego. [...] The cat is doing the same thing in his way that Jane is, and in the particular situation you are thinking of his inner senses, that is the cat’s, were focused in my direction.

[...] Our cat’s eyes also had that same look in the last session.”)

[...] During this session our cat Willy slept the whole time. [...]

[...] Ego spits like a cat to maintain conscious control, but will relax when it sees it can come to itself whenever it chooses. [...]

He and the cat lover chose one particular way because they are too cagey and shrewd to take another recommended way. [...]

The cat lover stands on the ground, waiting, and this structure is also facing the water. [...]

[...] Our black cat, Rooney, was scratching at the door of our living room. Jane sat waiting half in trance — a feeling she later described as “weird” — while I followed the cat down the hall. [...]

[...] Our cat, Willy, lay snoozing beside me on the couch. [...]

Then tonight she began writing “a fun thing” about our cats, Billy and Mitzi, who are brother and sister just 10 months old now: “In the beginning, Billy and Mitzi weren’t even kittens yet, but only bits of sky and cloud that wanted to be pussycats. Not that anyone knew what cats were, because God hadn’t created any yet. If it hadn’t been for Billy and Mitzi, cats might not exist at all….” The story sprang out of the hilarious way she’s taken to addressing Mitzi in regard to that cat’s gifts from heaven; I’ve been telling her that the affair would make a great children’s book.³ In the several pages she wrote this evening Jane presented her material quite humorously, in a manner reminiscent of, yet different from, her second Seven novel, The Further Education of Oversoul Seven, and her Emir.⁴

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.

(“Seth, Jane has wanted to know what was going on here in the house during the time our dog Mischa died, and when the two cats also died.”)

[...] I took a shower, ate breakfast and fed the cats, put the trash out to be picked up by the service we subscribe to, and gave both Classie and “Black Dog” — whose name, Margaret Bumbalo told me, is Missy — snacks of dry cat food. [...]

[...] I routed out a number of tall cans of cat food of various brands that had been hidden at the back of the shelf, behind the other stuff. The cat foods were of various brands, the labels brightly colored. [...]

One note: Ruburt felt guilty over your second cat (Catherine) initially, feeling you did not want him. As you grew affectionate to the cat, Ruburt’s feeling vanished.

[...] Yes, Catherine is a male cat.)

[...] After Marilyn left Jane and I discovered that both of us had been alarmed by the child in some vague way; his actions had been quite overtly strong, we thought, involving such things as pretending to kill our cat Willy, taking swings at Jane and me, etc. [...]

Now I do not mind your chasing the cat (Seth’s voice was suddenly loud; I had taken a swipe at our cat Willy with my notepaper, when he was about to jump up into Jane’s lap), but chasing my foot is another matter… this energy is then picked up by the families of the students, and their lives indirectly benefited.

(Our cat Willy was injured, evidently by a car, a week ago. [...]

(Seth’s favorite name for Peggy Gallagher is the cat lover, since Peg is afraid of cats; and he likes to call Bill Gallagher the Jesuit, because of his never-ending questions.)

[...] However, since we are going to devote some time to our cat lover, in Washington, I will not begin the discussion of those dreams now. [...]

[...] Our friend the cat lover attends this discussion, perhaps in a room numbered 312.

[...] Our old cat, Willy One, died last November 5. A few days later we obtained Willy Two from Stray Haven in Waverly, New York. [...]

(At 8:10 our cat Willy behaved in a most peculiar fashion. [...]

[...] I was in your back room, minding my own business or yours, looking out the large window at the rainy night, and of course your cat discovered me almost at once.

My fond regards to you both, and if your cat gave you a scare, may I mention for your hilarious enjoyment the fact that he caught me unprepared.

In the cats’ deaths, both 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 some time. [...] The second cat barely enjoyed such reinforcement at all and quickly succumbed. [...]

[...] Ever since, we’ve been very aware of the effect our behavior and moods have on our cats and have observed the same reinforcement or lack of it in other people’s relationship with their animals.

[...] As she did, our cat Willy behaved in a most strange fashion. [...]

[...] It goes without saying that a bird’s death is inevitable, but a cat killing a bird does not have to juggle the same sort of values with which man is concerned.

(“Did our cat sense you at the beginning of tonight’s session?”)

Your cat sensed me in the beginning of the session. [...]

[...] The accident probability is more closely allied with our Jesuit than with our cat lover, and he has been driving himself too hard.

[...] Our cat lover’s knowledge of the impressions has the same effect as the Jesuit’s knowledge.