Miss Kitty

 See that face?  That is the face of our newest sorta-resident, Miss Kitty.  Yes, that's what I am calling her because if I let my wife name her then she'll be ours, which would be great, except we still have 3 dogs too many!  The last thing we need is this kitty cat standing at the back door taunting the dogs all day from inside her air conditioned palace.  I'm pretty sure there isn't a lot keep big dumb Chase from busting through there in the first place!



Miss Kitty and I have a history together that goes back a couple weeks.  We first met when Evan and I were walking around the front yard on a nice Saturday morning while Jenn was making pancakes.  I heard "meow, meow, meeeoooowwww" and started trying to pinpoint the source, only to realize what I feared was true - somewhere inside that fence full of doggies was a lonely, scared cat in a tree.

After securing all of the dogs (Maggie 3 times!) I spent the better part of 3 hours coaxing her down that morning with my best "here kitty" voice.  I rattled food.  I clicked and meowed.  I even tried to scare her down.  Finally, she descended and hit the ground, I thought, never to be seen again.

Fast-forward a few days.  "Meoww... meoowww," and back up the very same tree I see the very same cat.  To make this story short, it took days and days of me going outside and coaxing and begging and scheming to get her to come down - until finally on Friday morning, I got her out of the tree and physically carried her out of the fence.

Problem solved. " Jason, you're  a hero among all the land of cats.  This little kitty will run away and tell tales of your heroism far and wide, perhaps they will even make a Cat movie about you and your great deeds."  Ok, so maybe my mind goes astray sometimes, but at the very least I thought as soon as I put the cat on the ground it would run away in a flash, truly never to be seen again this time.

Instead she started circling my legs.  And Meowing.  And circling.  And meowing and circling and meowing and purrrring and circling until of course I had to feed and water her.

So now its Monday and Miss Kitty lives on our front stoop.  She loves her some Jason, and my wife and Evan love them some Miss Kitty.  In fact, Evan looked like this the first time we made him go inside and cool down from playing with her:

So now you know what I'm dealing with, right?

Here is the preachery part of this story.

Miss Kitty and I don't speak the same language.  We don't have the same mind or emotions or capacities.  My ways are far beyond hers, and yet somehow I lowered myself to communicate with her just enough to save her life.

Sound familiar?

She will never understand why I did it, nor will she ever fully grasp my ways.  She won't be able to write a systematic Kitty theology book about my nature that will be able to explain all that I am thinking and feeling and doing.

She just knows she's grateful.  She once was lost, but now is found, and she's grateful.  Its really not all that complicated, is it?  She loves me because I loved her enough to rescue her.  She wants to make me happy because she's grateful.  She lets my son pull on her tail without scratching or biting him because she's grateful.  She cuddles up to me every time I walk out the door because she's grateful.  I'm pretty sure the next thing will be kitty worship, where she brings "offerings" (dead creatures) to the "altar." (my front step)

Miss Kitty doesn't need to argue with other cats about what I'm like, or who I supposedly hate.  She doesn't care - she's just grateful.  Like the 1 leper out of 10 that turns back and says, "thank you."

She's grateful, and that's where love begins.

p.s. - If anybody would like to adopt Miss Kitty, who is truly the sweetest cat I've ever met, comment here and I will contact you!