Adventures in a Cat-A-Tonic State

Well, it’s been one week since the addition of a kitten into our household and for the most part, the adjustment period is going well.  Like any other home where there is a young one present, our family room carpet is littered with a variety of toys and household items that have been found to be amusing.  Much of our daily routine revolves around the little one, answering its cries, feeding, cleaning and comforting as required.  Unlike the addition of a new little human or canine baby however, there are no late night events to interrupt my sleep.  This is a good thing

Our first order of business in our early days with our baby was to find the perfect name.  The papers we received from the SPCA referred to our baby as “Sterling”; a three month old male kitten.    We weren’t crazy about the name, a little pretentious in our opinion.  I also was beginning to have my doubts that we indeed had a male kitten.  Aside from the total lack of evidence of any male paraphernalia, there was an incision scar on the tummy.  Our first visit to our new vet at the Ruckersville Animal Hospital, confirmed my suspicions and our kitten was declared a very healthy female kitten.  I’ve heard people say that kittens are difficult to sex, but honestly, you’d think they would have noticed when they spayed her and corrected their mistake.  Not that gender really makes any difference to me, she’d be just as cute as a he.

After much deliberation, we decided on the name “Pearl” which I soon modified the spelling to “Purrl” – a triple entendre referencing her color, her wonderful “motor” skills and my love for knitting.  I believe Purrl is destined to become a knitting enthusiast as well, trying her hand at assisting me with a pair of socks I was working on last night.

So far Izzie is accepting Purrl with great kindness.  I was so concerned that she’d been an only cat so long that she wasn’t going to be happy sharing the love.  After all, Izzie is the Queen and Dave and I her subjects.  But, the other night as Izzie sat perched on the back of the couch, Purrl approached her, wailing her baby cry.  Izzie extended her front paw and laid it across Purrl’s shoulders and began to lick her head and face.  It was a such a sweet moment.

I don’t know why I need these fur balls in my home, but I do.  They fill my house with activity and sometimes even mayhem and most of all love.  Izzie may not want to be with me all day, but she had set times when my presence is required – and it’s not only at meal time.  Lately, she’s made it known that she would like me to come take naps with her on my bed.  The funny thing is that I’ve been trying to get her to curl up with me on the couch forever (in her life terms).   The compromise is acceptable.

Since our move here, Izzie has been spending most of her daytime hours in the back yard.  She becoming quite a hunter.  At first her prey were the house finches at the feeder which was not a happy things as far as I’m concerned but the other day she caught a mole and brought it up to the house to present it to us.  She was ever so proud, and rightly so.

I know that there are a great many dog people who believe that their relationship has taught them much about God due to the characteristic traits we’ve bred into those animals since the first tame wolf came closer to a fire for some warmth or a scrap of meat.  Dogs are known for their loyalty, obedience and most of all, unconditional affection.  Cats, however provide insight into relationship with God that dogs, by their nature, just can’t.

Did you ever hear the expression “It was like herding cats”?  Cats provide a good workable image of free will.  You can not make a cat obey you, the cat must choose to do so.  Furthermore, in choosing to do what you want, the cat has decided there is something in it for her.  How human is that?

I’m not trash talking dogs.  I love dogs.  I’m just saying that a cats can provide a glimpse of what is must be like to be God.   This first week with Purrl has given me a little more insight in just how frustrated and disappointed God must get sometimes.  Like God, my intentions are all good.  All I want to do is insure that Purrl eats properly and is safe at all times.  In return, it seems like not too much to ask for her to at least acknowledge that all the blessings of sustenance and entertainment flow from me.  What do I want in return?  Just a little love – is that so wrong?

Maybe instead I’ll try to be more God like and patiently wait for Purrl to come to me. In the meantime, I might try curling up on my heavenly father’s lap for a while.  I think he’d like that.

 

 

 

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