🐾✨How to Make a Fuzzy Hat Out of Your Chaos Gremlin Familiar

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A not-entirely-metaphorical survival guide for witches owned by cats

Step 1: Understand the Beast You’re Dealing With

Your familiar — let’s be clear — is not just a cat.
She’s a sentient, moon-fueled entity wrapped in fur, attitude, and 300% more chaos than any normal mammal should contain.
She woke you up early.
She demanded affection, food, and a sacrifice in the form of a water glass knocked to the floor, and your FDT pins launched at your head like skeet while you slept.
She is your problem now. Forever.

But also? She’s magic.
And you love her.
(You must — because the alternative is she’s haunting your walls at 3am for fun.)


                                         

                        Literally nesting in my office bag because she believes it's her personal tote.

Step 2: Envision the Hat (But Don’t Let Her Know You’re Plotting)

Picture it: a soft, living fuzzy hat perched atop your head, tail swaying gently behind like a feather in the cap of a slightly unhinged Victorian adventurer.
The ears twitch.
The glowing eyes scan the room for prey (or more snacks).
You feel... powerful. Slightly ridiculous. Deeply protected.
This is what success looks like.

But don’t — DO NOT — let her catch wind of this vision.
She’ll either launch herself off the ceiling fan or curl up just out of reach and dare you to try.

Step 3: Assemble Your Tools (a.k.a. Bribes)

To create your chaos gremlin chapeau, you will need:

  • One (1) freshly laundered blanket (must smell like you)

  • Two (2) treats, preferably tuna-based

  • One (1) squishy familiar, preferably post-zoomies

  • Patience

  • A high tolerance for betrayal

Bonus tools include:

  • Your calmest voice

  • A lint roller for later

  • And maybe a Band-Aid. Just in case.

Step 4: Lure, Lull, and Lift

Begin by sitting in your designated summoning spot — bed, couch, sacred floor pillow, etc.
Spread the blanket. Casually open the treat bag. Let the crinkle do the heavy lifting.
Once she approaches (suspicious but intrigued), place a treat on your shoulder.
Wait.
She may climb. She may sniff. She may judge you like you’ve just asked her to pay rent.
This is part of the process.

When she settles — and she will settle — ever so gently wrap her tail around the back of your head like a boa.
Whisper sweet nothings. Pet with reverence.
And do not move.
You are now wearing a chaos gremlin hat. It is fuzzy. It is majestic. It is terrifying.
You are blessed.

Step 5: End the Ritual With Gratitude (and Chicken)


When she inevitably launches herself off your skull like a spiked cannonball of doom, thank her.
Thank her for her warmth. Her menace. Her proximity to the veil.
Leave an offering. Chicken is preferred. Blood (yours) is acceptable.
Know that she chose you, and that’s why you woke up an hour early, covered in hair and slightly concussed.


Final Thoughts

Being a witch with a familiar is not always elegant.
Sometimes it’s loud. Sometimes it’s clawed. Sometimes it smells weird and knocks over your mug mid-ritual.
But it is always a bond worth its chaos.
And if you can turn that bond into a wearable hat — even for five minutes — you’ve already won.

Because napping on clean towels is fun.

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