Monday, January 13, 2014

Life Lessons from the Family Cat, pt 1



We have a cat.  Or maybe I should say a cat has us.  Yeah, that’s probably more correct.  We are owned by a cat. 
It’s certainly not something we planned on.   I’m not even sure we’re “cat people.”   In fact, until a little over three years ago, we were a cat free family-and my husband was vehemently opposed to even the suggestion that a feline might one day join (own) our family-he simply disliked cats.   Dislike may be too soft a word, actually.
Thus enter the longings of a then 4 year old boy into our family history.  He begged and pleaded, begged and pleaded, and then begged and pleaded a little more—for a cat-preferably one of the “black Halloween” variety.  I guess, to that point, we’d raised him right, because when he realized he was getting nowhere with us, he took his request to a higher power.   Yes, my friends, our little boy was down on his knees before bedtime praying earnestly for a “black Halloween cat.”
Now, my husband and I may not be the brightest crayons in the box, but we do learn-and what we learned about the last time our youngster had a prayed like that (for a new sibling-he also asked Santa Claus for that one) was that God, in fact, hears and answers the prayers of the pure and earnest.   So, we made arrangements to adopt one (and then two….that’s another story entirely!) cats from a nearby animal rescue before the Good Lord had a chance to “bless” us with an entire litter of kittens.   One of those better to jump off the diving board than to be shoved into the water kind of things…
Cat one, Amos, went well from the beginning.   He made himself right at home and quickly became friendly with the household, even the 4 year old and the 11 month old.   Cat two, Rubelle-the bonus kitty, if you will-was another story entirely.   We don’t know what happened to her in her first year of life (she was right at a year old when we brought her home), but whatever it was likely did not involve happy times with humans.   She was absolutely terrified.   We could not get within 5 feet of her.   I’m pretty sure that neither myself, my husband, nor our oldest was able to get so much as a finger on her for the first two weeks.    We were pretty much at a loss-here was this pitiful creature who was either running frantically through our house in an effort to get away from us or shaking from fear in a corner-and there didn’t seem to be much we were going to be able to do about it.
There was one ray of hope, though.  On about day 4, we noticed that when we would put the baby down for a nap, Ruby would slip into the bedroom, curl up beside him, and sleep.  One day, I managed to slip in there and put a hand on her.  She shrank back from me at first, then let me pet her a few times before she took off again.   And so began the journey.  Some days she let us pet her, some days not.  We bribed her with treats, toys, catnip, and even fried catfish-her favorite.    We made an effort to move slowly around her.  Most of all, we just loved her.   And eventually, she started to come around. 
Fast forward three years to the present-she’s an only cat (we lost Amos to an illness), and the queen of the house.  Now the cat who was all but untouchable spends most of her days seeking a lap to sit on and pretty much all of her nights curled up in the bed between me and my husband-preferably with one of us holding her, but at the very least, cuddled up against someone .   Quite a difference, don’t you think?
I tell this story to make this point.   You may go and do good all day, all week, all year even, and feel like you’re not being successful.   But there is always hope.   And that good is never ever wasted.   You see, people and cats aren’t that different.  When people get hurt, they tend to pull back, and worse, they sometimes run away and hide because they are so fearful of being hurt again.  And often times, it’s these very people who need to be loved, who need to experience good, the most.  Just like Ruby, they have to change their way of thinking and learn to be loved, and that takes time.   Three years ago, we couldn’t touch her.   Today, she rolls over for us to scratch her belly.   
Love is an investment.  And all worthwhile investments require some effort and time.   It may take time to see the results, but love.  Just love.  Love first and love last.  The rest will take care of itself.  Maybe you’ll see the results, maybe you won’t-but does it matter?  The point was never for you to see the results in the first place-the point is will you go and do what/where God is calling you.  He’ll handle the rest.
And, if you don’t believe people can change-Rubelle is sleeping on my husband’s back as I finish up this post.  Turns out, he’s a cat person after all.  J  
Just love and do good.  That’s all He asks.  The rest will come, whether we’re around or not.
 Get up and go!

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