Hello, Kitty
My cat somehow always knows when I’m not doing well. In deference to my delicate condition, she retracts her claws, stops growling at the sound of my voice, doesn’t try to bite me when I fill her food bowl, and does other little acts of kindness and endearments. Tonight, she hopped up on my lap, allowed me to touch her for about 10 seconds, and gazed upon me with mild disdain instead of open hostility. Oh, how she loves me!
You may scoff, but a recent study shows that cat owners are less likely to die from heart attacks and other cardiovascular diseases. This does not surprise me: I get a lot of exercise dodging Baby’s claws. Cat lovers, the study explains, have less stress and anxiety levels (living in abject fear is invigorating, not stressful).
Another study asserts that cat owners live longer. Since I’m afraid to go to sleep at night, I know my baby has certainly added life to my years! I would have gotten a lot of things done with these extra hours, it’s just that Baby can’t sleep unless she’s on top of whatever book I’m trying to read or the keyboard as I try to type. I must respect her needs, as her exasperated sighs constantly remind me.
If you have heard disparaging comments, it is only because Baby’s enemies have mounted a relentless smear campaign. Why should she be blamed when people do not understand the mischievous nature of her hissing? The dilated pupils? The better to see you, my dear… The lashing tail? The ears flattened against her head? The way she pounces on you, leaping several feet in the air as her fangs try to reach your throat? Good-natured teasing, nothing more!
I know there are those who do not understand our relationship—and the sadistic few (one!) who have offered to throw her off my third-story balcony.
But she brings me joy. And I love her with the whole of my heart because she is mine. This denotes not possession, but belonging.
I had a truly horrible week last week. Feeling pathetic and battered, I needed a place to weather the storm. I found my refuge here: But now this is what the LORD says…Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. (Isa. 43:1).
At my best and (especially) at my worst and my weakest, the truest thing about who I am is that I am loved. Passionately. Recklessly.
