Yesterday, while puttering around the house putting this here and folding that shirt there I thought I was suffering from auditory hallucinations. In the middle of a scrub scrub here and a scrub scrub there I’d hear a distant mew. I’d stop, stand still, hear nothing, then back to it. Then another ‘mew’. Listen. Rinse. Repeat. Finally, I sent my self out as an expeditionary force to search for these mews in case they aren’t just bouncing about inside my punkin haid (translation: pumpkin head). It turned out The Lad’s cat, Grandé, was shut in Our Marta’s room overnight. No food, no water, but a place for a pet with kitty doo to go potty ==> red rug. After rescuing His Highness I tossed the rug in the washer, then the dryer, but alak! the tell-tale aroma of liquid nitrogen was still present. It makes no sense to keep the rug because ‘the scent’ becomes a new potty spot to the other cats. It’s like Grandé put up a sign saying, “Hey, Gomers, I made a new bathroom for us. You can thank me later“. ((sigh)) Such is the life of a cat owner.
Even though cats aren’t mentioned in the Bible, God made them just the same. Like fleas and mosquitoes, there is a reason for them to exist. ‘Why do cats behave the way they do?’ is just Question #37 of 200 on my “God, why did you …” list after I enter through the pearly gates.
Proverbs 24:3 By wisdom a house is built, and by understanding it is established;