I wouldn’t always see him as he cowered in the bushes, but I couldn’t help but hear him.
His was not a weak or meek whimper, but the cry of an animal in real distress.
He was terrified and starving and was hoping someone would care about both.
Those of his kind who had already found sanctuary here cared about neither.
They knew of his presence and his plight, but preferred that he stay hidden from sight and silent.
They also know somehow that I would have mercy on him if I knew about him…and they believed that mercy was for them only.
I started by putting dish of food near the bushes he hid in…his hunger soon overcame his fear and he devoured it if I stood a safe distance away.
Soon, every morning and every evening, he would call for me and I would feed him…inching closer every time I put the dish out.
My objective wasn’t just to feed him, though that was of primary importance.
The objective was to bring him fully into the family, to feed him, love him, care for him, and give him a home where all those things are a given.
Real mercy is full mercy.
Soon, he would let me sit with him while he ate, but would run if I tried to touch him.
Then, he allowed me to scratch his head while he ate.
Finally he let me pet him..he trusted me.
His joy was almost amusing in it’s intensity…food and loving attention at the same place, probably for the first time in his life.
He thought he had found a home,a place where he belonged.
The other cats who had found mercy here soon convinced him otherwise.
They let him know that even if I felt he belonged ,that he really didn’t belong here at all.
When he finally felt the courage to walk in the house, Miss Kitty beat him…she drew blood and ran him away.
She spat at me for allowing such in our home.
My new friend had crossed the path of the gatekeeper to full acceptance.
The gate was closed…slammed in his face.
I can do as I will, but they will not allow him to be one of them…even though they found sanctuary in the same place, in the same way.
He still comes and gets fed, he loves being petted and spoken to…but he knows he’s not accepted by anyone but me.
I will always go out to him if he can’t come to me because of the gatekeepers.
I’ve seen more than a few humans who function the same way.
They want the strays, the battered, the homeless, to stay over there, out of sight.
They will only extend mercy if it keeps them clean from the defilement of the lost.
They don’t want them in the house.
They were once what they despise now.
The owner of the house is not pleased with them.
Make your own application…