My New Cat Philosopher

I’ve written frequently about my various Himalayan cats, and the life lessons I’ve learned from them. (Just check out the “cats” tag for previous articles, if you’re interested.) While I was on my blogging break, my last Himalayan baby, Wendy, died of cancer.

I was a little afraid she might be my last pet for a long time. My poor hubby isn’t really into pets, but two cats came into our marriage and lived a LONG time, and then we ended up fostering Wendy. But fortunately, I’m married to a wonderful, unselfish man!

So about a week later, I ended up with Minerva Pearl (a.k.a. Mini, or Mini Pearl).

My mom has always had a colony of feral cats on her land, and when Wendy died, there was a litter of wild kittens out behind her house. They were probably ten or eleven weeks old. One evening I went out to my mother’s after work, and Dave was already there. He told me to go look on the back porch, and when I did, I found a cat carrier with a very scared tabby kitten inside. He had caught one of the ferals for me!

Like her predecessors, Mini is constantly providing me with spiritual lessons. For example—how did I end up with her instead of one of the other kittens? Because she was the one Dave managed to catch with a fishing net! None of them wanted to be caught. They all thought we humans were evil, just intent on hurting them or ruining their lives.

But now I compare her life to that of her litter mates—especially when I leave my mom’s house on a frigid winter night and know they’ll be sleeping outside, while Mini will most likely be snuggled in bed with me. She has constant attention, safety from predators, the best food and medicine, people to love her and play with her. Not to mention her own personal doorman who lets her out on the screen porch and into the house, back and forth, about a million times a day.

And yet, she fought it for all she was worth. Which, of course, makes me think about my total misunderstanding, so many times, of what God is trying to do in my life. I wonder how many times I’ve mistrusted Him, or thought my way was better—when I might have missed out on something wonderful because I was too afraid to go through that scary moment when He put his hand on me.

Mini isn’t quite two years old yet, so I’m sure she has a lot more to teach me. I’ll keep you posted!