TGIF
We had a a surprise late night /early morning snowstorm here to usher in the beginning of March.
I would not have known this until I woke up this morning had not an Arctic blast awakened me hours before I expected or wanted.
Cinnabon had blown the door open…unless I latch the deadbolt, both her and Max know that if they hurl their bodies at the door it will spring open…and spring open it did.
I shot out of bed (as much as any movement I can make presently can be described as such), struggled to find the light and slam the door.
Liam looked at me with his usual mix of emotions…he cannot understand why I allow these vagabonds to disturb the felicity of our rest or why they are allowed in the house at all.
Then there is also resignation to the fact that they will be allowed to do so and they will get to share from his bag of Purina One Hairball Formula.
He rolled into a tighter ball, turned his back on the whole annoying proceeding and went back to sleep.
Cinnabon was unapologetic and demanding because she is the Grand Dame of the neighborhood and I should consider it a privilege to serve her at all.
I do consider it as such…and I also know that under that arrogance is a lot of fear and confusion…she is not acknowledged as precious by her own…
She had gotten wet on her way here…a warm towel was demanded and applied to remedy that indignity.
She ate and received the exact amount of attention she wanted…she stopped to hiss at Liam (who didn’t even know she was still here) and gingerly went back into the night.
I didn’t immediately turn the lights off and crawl back into bed…I knew that Max was probably lurking close by…and I soon heard him scratch at the door.
Max has none of the bombast of Cinnabon…in fact, I named him “Marcel” after the mime before I knew his given name.
He has a suitable home, but he likes the diverse menu at mine.
He also likes to take his time…he dines, then pauses for a brief bath, then he likes to sit next to me and stare.
It’s a tad unnerving.
After he has stared for a bit, it’s time for dessert…dinner must be served in proper stages to be enjoyed to the fullest.
He gets his treats, sits and stares again for a while, then moseys out the door…always stopping to briefly hiss at Liam.
Liam could swallow him whole, but desists on my account.
I tell you all this to tell you that this story represents much of my vision for what the church should be.
For cats, my home has always been a sanctuary.
Any cat could come and find shelter, food, love, and safety.
They didn’t have to do anything to merit these things but arrive.
There were some rules to follow…don’t attack each other…this is my house and we go by my rules.
Everyone is welcome and welcome to stay, but you have to learn to love everyone who is here.
That doesn’t come easy for cats…or people.
Liam has been with me for almost a year and all the cats are learning toleration, with an occasional obligatory hiss.
They’re getting sanctified…
The church should be a place that looks at people and serves them the way I serve our cats.
It should be a place where you can enter to escape the outside and therein find shelter, food, love, and safety.
A place where you have to learn to get along, with an occasional hiss.
It’s His House and His rules…
He never engages the deadbolt…
Make your own application…
Brilliant!! I’m so glad I’ve found a church like that.
I have not, but I am glad for you which gives me hope.
You are indeed the best cat theologian alive.
I think, as to churches, mine seems to accommodate many diverse, amazing people. We seem to get along well, and there are enough different activities that one can find a spot. Case in point, I avoid the fellowship groups for older people where the vibe is very Trumpish, anti-immigration, and the only comments about the service music is that it is too loud. Instead, it’s the Spanish service and my four-year old Sunday School class (1/3 of them are from the Spanish congregation), translating, and helping parents navigate school. Oh, and ESL (although our attendance has been so low this year that we may put it to bed for a while-work seems to be all-consuming for our people, and I understand why with the housing costs in our area). There are some people I can talk to. We may not agree, but we dialog; we don’t yell at each other (any side of yelling and I beat a hasty retreat-blood pressure and all that).
As to cats, Felix is the “Pope” of his own little kingdom where everything is interpreted according to the doctrines of the Dudebro. He does not suffer heretics gladly, and he is quick to mete out punishment to those who are not doctrinally pure. Recently I seem to have been adopted by a Porch Cat who finds my patio furniture very inviting. It’s driving Felix nuts as he looks through the window, but I’ve reassured him he will remain the ruler of his own domain due to the mobile home park rules (one pet per household). I hope that the UCDS (universal cat distribution system) as I’m a complete pushover for animals in distress.
Alan,
Thank you…though we both know that my position is due to a lack of competition… 🙂
Michael, I hope this wonderful post is added to the second edition of “Kids, Cats, and Christ” – that is upcoming, right? 😉
Owen,
Thanks, my friend.
My future is so uncertain at the moment I can’t promise anything…but I hope so.