I’m told repeatedly that animals like Zip (or Rose, or Red, or Simon and Frieda) are spirit creatures that come when needed and leave when their work is done. I’m starting to think Zip is such an animal; he came out of nowhere and lifted my soul, which needed lifting at the time Zip appeared.

He may be my familiar, which would make me a witch.

In Western demonology, a familiar is a small animal or imp kept as a witch’s spirit or attendant, given to her by the devil or inherited from another witch. The familiar was a low-ranking demon that assumed any animal shape, such as a toad, dog, insect, or black cat. Sometimes, the familiar was described as a grotesque creature of fantasy, a mix of several creatures.

The familiar was believed to exist by sucking blood from a witch’s fingers or other parts of her body, such as a mole or a wart. During the European witchcraft trials of the 15th–17th century, a suspected witch was searched for the “teats” by which she fed her familiar, and these, like the devil’s brand marks, were considered sure signs of her guilt.

 

(Out in the snow taking pictures, Zip is right with me.)

Before Zip, I had long believed that animals come for a reason; they mark the passages in life. Every vital change or evolution in my life has been accompanied by a dog with a powerful spirit that spoke of Joseph Campbell’s magical helpers who appeared to guide seekers home on their hero journeys.

Knowing the assertive, fearless, and affectionate Zip, I do not doubt he is a spirit animal, perhaps my lifetime cat. He is also a bit of a demon cat.

Before that, it was dogs.

(Above, a witch’s “familiar” courtesy, Brittanica.)

There was Julius and Stanley, who came when I started writing novels at home; Rose, who came to help me survive my farm in Hebron; Izzy and Lenore, who brought me into therapy work; and Frieda, who helped me to love Maria,  and Gus, our first small dog who died so young; and Red, who took over where Rose left off when we moved to the New Bedlam Farm.

To me, they are all spirit dogs who come to guide me on my trek for an entire and meaningful life. Each one was a magical helper, as Campbell suggested.

I’m not sure what passage of life Zip is marking; it might be the gradual opening up of my heart, starting with Maria and working through my blog and the Army Of Good.

Rain or snow, Zip is always out hunting.)

 

My therapist says Zip is here because I am open to him and to the intimacy that often comes with an animal.

I’ve always loved the idea of witches; all the ones I know, including my wife, are good witches who use their powers to do good. I’m pleased with the idea of Zip being my familiar; this would explain a lot about our relationship.