The Cat's Meow

We know one another reasonably well. We ought to, after years together. One of the things I try to impress time and time again is the need for dialogue, healing, and love within the family. We can’t expect to find harmony in the community, or the world if there is no harmony in our small, micro orbit.

     When, years ago, a small plaintive sound was heard on my front step I knew something ominous was about to occur. I just didn’t know how life would change so quickly.

     It turns out that a small black kitten had found its way to our home. Making tiny throaty noises it painfully asked for food and succor. We gave both, in abundance.

     The kitten moved into the house bringing with it a litter box, countless toys, sheds of once venerated fabric on chairs and couches, smelly open cans of cat food and the most strange noises next to my head around four a.m.

     Not that I am complaining. The fact that half my family remained allergic to cat dander has nothing to do with this article. Nor does the fact that a bunch of kids and one cat makes for some unusual reactions in my house around 6:30 each evening. A new love object entered our lives.

     I happen to be a big fan of animals. I love dogs. Had quite a few of them over the years. They were my best friends growing up.( Did you know that my first pulpit was in a small English town called Barkingside? No joke.)

     What worried me was that the cat becomes the equivalent of a house member. I have had more than a single argument with members of the congregation on the differences between a human and an animal. Some tenderhearted, well-intentioned people are under the misapprehension that animals and people have the same value. Oy.

     It is a disturbing fact that only a little “ t “ separates a rabbit from a rabbi. And secretaries seem not to keep the two distinct even with spell check. As Alfred E. Neuman once said,  “What? Me worry? “