A change of pace here and atmosphere.
Our live- in cat is by far a personality of her own. She remains very healthy and carries some feral instincts I doubt she will ever lose.
She can be grumpy and irritable but also loving and caring on her own terms. In other words don’t bother her if she doesn’t want to be bothered. Never mind she has no problem waking us up in the middle of the night to go out the front door for her nocturnal escapades.
Mark went outside a few weeks ago just after dark to go swimming. He felt someone or something was looking at him. Turning around there she was perched on the roof of the house as if to be smiling and saying, “Hey dad, I’m on the roof and there is nothing you can do about it.”
One afternoon the teenage boy of the guy who cuts our grass watched Maxi in amazement saunter up to our 6 foot fence and take a graceful leap to the top in one move. Resting a moment, she observed the surroundings from her elevated position as if to enjoy the view. Hopping down to the ground landing completely poised on all 4’s she was off for an afternoon stroll in the woods. Not bad for an 11 year old feline.
But make no efforts to take this cat to the Vet for anything.
About a month ago I noticed her mouth was swollen. An infected tooth was the first battle.
As usual you could hear her wailing and whining all over the clinic. It was embarrassing. Thinking that horror was all she would have to deal with we had to administer 10 days of antibiotics. None too happy she wised up and hid under the dining room table, ran upstairs and hid behind the couch or landed in a deep dark closet where hiding out would supposedly rid her of this nasty tasting stuff we forced down her throat. What she didn’t know was her teeth had to be cleaned. Oh how I dreaded this.
The morning she was to go no food and water kept her in screaming mode. Following me around the house like a child wanting a new toy the look on her face was “why aren’t you feeding me? Where is my water you stupid cat person?”
I must admit it was wrenching my soul that I knew what she didn’t. The cat carrier awaited for another journey to what she thinks of as a feline “hell.”
I could see what she was thinking as we pushed her into the carrier, “How could my people do this to me over and over when they know I hate it!”
The house was eerily quiet all day with her gone. Her loud mouth had vanished. Her yelling for wet cat food was absent. Her notorious presence was noticeably missed.
Later, the call came from the doctor telling me how well she did. Mark brought her home that afternoon only to watch her drunkenly try to maneuver walking anywhere. The anesthesia was still very much in her system causing her to walk sideways until she fell over.
We thought it was funny but she saw no laughter in her plight.
Over the next week administering more meds she was more difficult than before. Even now she is distrusting of us thinking we will shock her into returning to the cat abyss.
I can’t help but think how God must feel when we don’t trust him.
As we hide under the dining room table or lock ourselves in a dark closet from him are we grieving his heart? Do we run the other way when he wants to administer his medicine knowing it is what is best for us?
When he tries to explain himself do we react like a cat who has no idea what is being spoken?
I know how it made me feel trying to explain to Maxi why she needed antibiotics and a Vet visit to restore her “pearly whites.”
Helpless, as if I couldn’t get my point across. Knowing in the long run we would save her from a possible pre-mature death didn’t filter her little brain.
She was no different than us. We want the end result but forget the in-between misery of knowing what we are going through is God’s bigger picture.
Are you running from God?