Hiding

I am a cat lover. If I was concerned with gaining a following on this Blog, I would never publicize that fact about me. I've always been amazed that it's socially acceptable to say in group settings, "I HATE cats." I've also noticed that there is rarely, if ever, any social backlash from this statement, "I HATE dogs!" I dare anyone in a group to say that and see what happens. I recommend doing this at the end of your time with this group if you plan on enjoying the rest of the event. (I learn be doing. Sigh.)

Back to cats. I like interesting names for my cats. I guess it's because growing up we had Frisky, Puff, Whiskers, and Alley to name a few. I've had Bartok, Dr. Livingston, Stumpelina, Hiss---short for histrionic, Elphaba, and Galinda. When we got our latest cat from a shelter he was pre-named, Studley. My seven year old loved the name and informed me, with great accuracy, that I had named all the other cats and this was her cat.

I was wrong about his name. He's aptly named for many reasons. Annie Beth wrote this recently in an essay at school, "Studley looks like an Oreo, but thinks he's a supermodel." She will often say to me in hushed tones, "Studley is b-m-u-d!" She knows he's not bright enough to spell backwards and fears damaging his fragile self esteem. Perhaps I'm partially to blame for that fragility because I tell him multiple times a day he is a beautiful cat and rarely affirm other traits.

Studley is quite large and has long, lush fur. Although, neutered, he still loves to be outside with full confidence  that some young feline will find him irresistible. Unless he's hungry, he does the same thing every single night when it's time to come indoors. It always ends with this routine: I'm chasing him. He's cornered. He crouches on the ground, ears pulled back and closes his eyes. I laugh, pick him up, and bring him inside.

I laugh because I think I'm a lot like Studley. When I'm asked to do something I don't want to do, don't I crouch down, close my ears, and shut my eyes? Surely if I am I still enough, quiet enough, and keep my eyes closed, the other person cannot see me. Sometimes that method works with people--to my misfortune, I think. But, I'm particularly amused when I think about how God must view this behavior. In my odd imagination I hear Him saying, "Well, Jesus, there she is again, thinking I can't see her. If she only knew."

I love Studley. I did not love what his claws were doing to every piece of fabric or leather in my house upon his adoption, so his front claws were removed. I know that we still have coyotes in our neighborhood at night. So, it's love that motivates me to bring him inside. My agenda is to protect him since I made the choice to limit his ability to defend himself. I'm not trying ruin his evening and ask him to come in because I distrust him. I just know a few more things than he will ever be capable of learning or completely understand. He's a creature with more limited abilities than I have. It will always be that way. And yet, it doesn't impact my love for him. I love him because he is a cat. I never expect him to be a human. I just want him to accept my love and have a relationship with me.

So tonight I'll thank Studley as I pick him up from his crouched position. I do love that cat!