Adopting a Chaos Familiar

Adopting a Chaos Familiar June 26, 2023

This past week has been productive, y’all. I braced the store against the onslaught of Pride, had an incredibly constructive meeting with my editor, let a stranger from TikTok move in with me, and even got a few loads of laundry done.

And yes, I know what you’re thinking: How did I ever find the time to do laundry? I’m pretty surprised about that myself. But the unplanned roommate probably makes for a better story, so let’s talk about that instead.

It started with various friends attempting to foist pets on me. One of Reynard’s cats found herself in the family way, and he decided that two of the kittens were meant to be in my care. I resisted at first, but finally I caved and agreed to foster them, provided he come over and help me deep clean/cat-proof my apartment. At which point he promptly moved to a different city, which was actually work-related but still an obstacle in the “I don’t want to deal with this domestic mess without backup” department.

So I didn’t end up getting the kittens, and my apartment stayed dusty and cluttered. And then my boss’ French bulldog cranked out a unexpected litter, and he was all, “Ooh, I think one of them should be yours, ” and I was like, “WHY ARE EVERYONE’S SLUTTY PETS SOMEHOW MY PROBLEM?” But I told him I’d consider it, provided that a) he let me bring the puppy to work with me, since I’m not home enough to give anything else living there proper attention, and b) someone still come help me clean my apartment.

A fictionalized but unflinching illustration of my dining area. (Image courtesy of Blas Arturo Gonález Bernal.)

And then he spent some quality time weighing the money he’d just spent on new inventory against the presence of a tiny, teething poop factory, and he ultimately decided that I was not cut out for parenthood. It was probably a wise decision. And I really wasn’t in a position to adopt an animal, anyway. Besides, I didn’t want a pet as much as I wanted a familiar.

I’ve mentioned before how a lot of witches refer to their pets as familiars, but my personal perception of familiar spirits goes a bit beyond that. As I understand it, the relationship between witch and familiar is quid pro quo: The familiar protects the witch and assists them with their magic, and in return, the witch provides the familiar with sustenance and comfortable shelter. Additionally, from a folkloric standpoint, familiars often appear when witches find themselves in times of need — I’m living paycheck to paycheck at the moment, so consciously taking on the financial burden of raising a creature that won’t eventually be able to chip in with rent is emphatically not in the cards.

Of course, not having the space/spoons to keep an animal in the house made me want one even more. So I started researching exotic pets, thinking that if I cast a spell to attract a familiar [full disclosure: I never got around to casting it last time], a corn snake or a leopard gecko or something would magically present itself. Plus exotics are pretty self-sufficient once they’ve settled into their habitats, so I figured the initial set-up fees would be worth it in the long run. But just to make sure, I pulled out my lithomantic stones and gave them a few good throws.

Y’all. I have never landed so many negative readings in a row in my life. Hermit crab? No. Spur-thighed tortoise? Ye Gods, no. Mexican red-knee tarantula? What is wrong with you. Finally, I was just like, “Should I not get anything at all?” And I could swear the stones sighed in relief.

So… fine, then. No embodied familiar for me. Which made financial sense, although it also kind of sucked, on account of I was getting a little tired of being the only living entity in my apartment. I mean, don’t get me wrong: My mental health is fair to middlin’, and I haven’t had to wrestle with any depression lately, which is great. But outside of work, I do spend a possibly unhealthy amount of time by myself. And while I’m pretty good at keeping myself company, I do have to admit that I get lonely at times. Especially when something undeniably occult goes down, and there’s no one physically present to wig out about it with me.

It was around this time that my TikTok friend Davo (pronounced “DAVE-oh”) posted a video about his next destination. He’s a nomad by nature, and he’s been tooling around the country in an old pickup truck for awhile now, having adventures and creating fascinating cartomancy content. And even though he was nowhere near Houston, I shot him a message to let him know that he was always welcome to crash on my couch for as long as he’d like if he ever found himself in the area.

Never look a gift familiar in the escape hatch. Which totally sounds like a euphemism, but whatever. (Image courtesy of Blas Arturo Gonález Bernal.)

He appreciated the thought and told me he’d keep it in mind, and sooner than later, I forgot all about it. As such, I was caught off-guard when he reached out like, “Hey, I’m in Florida, but things aren’t going to work out here. Is it cool if I head towards Houston?”

My stones were still on hand, so I gave them another throw. Strong yes: prosperity through partnership. I messaged back and explained that I’d be going out of town for a week in mid July, so we could maybe set his target move-in date for sometime after that, which would give me a chance to straighten up my place a bit. To which he responded, “I was actually thinking like three days from now. But here’s my number. Give me a call when you can.”

I threw the stones again. Strong yes: prosperity through partnership. I grabbed my phone and called as requested.

“My apartment is a disaster,” I said.

“Then we’ll clean it,” he replied.

“Oh,” I said, blindsided by the simplicity of the solution. “In which case, I’ll… see you in three days.”

I made it to work the morning of his scheduled arrival in an off-kilter mood. Inviting Davo to come stay with me didn’t feel like a bad idea, but it felt like it should feel like a bad idea, and that was messing with my head. But then I saw a toad, and I felt better.

Despite my insistence that not every brush with nature is a portent, toads hold a special place in my heart. I’ve never owned one, but they do sometimes act as impromptu familiars for me — they tend to show up in my general vicinity whenever witchcraft is afoot, and in fact, right after I made that servitor to keep cockroaches away, the local toad population exploded. So spotting one floating lazily in a puddle in front of the store struck me as an auspicious assurance.

And then I looked a little closer and realized that the toad, while upright and intact, was very much deceased. The corporeal vessel of the familiar was there, but its soul had left the building and was on its way to a brand new home.

Fly high, little tadpole. (Image courtesy of Blas Arturo Gonález Bernal.)

And that’s when it occurred to me that a person could be a familiar, too.

Davo bills himself as a “witch’s witch,” meaning that his primary purpose is to help the practitioners around him unlock their potentials. My own practice is decent as-is, but I’d be lying if I said that I haven’t gotten a little complacent with it. There is always room for my magic to grow and evolve: Considering that I’m writing a book about Chaos Witchcraft, I need to be actively experimenting and recording results, not just covering basic maintenance with incense matches and casual prayers.

I need a conspiratorial spirit to offer aggressive motivation and get excited about this stuff with me. And if that spirit just happens to reside in the human form of a sidekick, so much the better.

We met up at a coffee shop around the corner from my place, and, after we’d both determined that the other was not, like, the Pantyhose Strangler or anything, I let him follow me home. I’ve been introducing him to the cinematic miracle of Screen Ireland folk horror films, and he’s been teaching me how to invoke Greek personifications during banishing rituals. I’m cajoling him into participating in TikTok trends, and he’s demonstrating techniques on guerrilla altar construction. He’s been camped out on my couch for a little under a week, but it honestly kind of feels like he’s always been there.

And on the first night of our in-person acquaintance, as he was unpacking, a miniature canvas featuring a hand-painted protection sigil fell out of his bag.

“Oh, hey,” he said. “This must be for you.”

As it was of old, the witch takes in the familiar, and the familiar protects the witch.

Provided he doesn’t shit on my carpet, this could mark well the beginning of a prosperous working relationship.

Davo Deth and Thumper Forge. Let the chaos collaboration commence.

Like what you’ve read? You can buy me a coffee about it. (CashApp and Venmo are always options as well.)

Oh, more discord, you say? But of course! Follow Fivefold Law on Facebook, Instagram, Mastodon, TikTok, Twitter, YouTube, and Zazzle.

About Thumper
Thumper (Horkos) Marjorie Splitfoot Forge is a Gardnerian High Priest, an initiate of the Minoan Brotherhood, an Episkopos of the Dorothy Clutterbuck Memorial Cabal of Laverna Discordia, a recovering alcoholic, and a notary public from Houston, TX. His first book, VIRGO WITCH, co-authored with Ivo Dominguez, Jr., will be available in November 2023. You can read more about the author here.

Browse Our Archives