You open your hand
and satisfy the desires of every living thing. Psalm 145: 116 NIV
If Buffy, the first cat-encounter, was local, the next was long distance. The black and white stray, Misha, was more influential, too, although we never met him. He was our “second-hand” cat.
Misha wandered into my mother’s life shortly after the 1989 San Francisco earthquake. He immediately identified my sister as “his person” and began convincing them both of his desirability at a pet. He called on Carol and have long conversations with her. She was sure he was telling her the story of his life. Apparently he had once been a loved pet: he was neutered. But he had seen hard times, too: he had a broken tooth and a fear of adult males.
Misha made no demands, but graciously and daintily accepted any tidbits offered. They learned later that he had been starving.
They began letting him in for short visits, and, as is the way with cats, he made himself at home. He had “his” own chair to sit on whenever he visited, covered with “his” towel against cat hair and dander. Inevitably they began to love the elegant creature. And Carol was convinced that God wanted her to have this cat.
But (and there is always a ‘but,’ isn’t there?) they were living in a No-Pets-Allowed building. Misha could not stay, he could only “visit.” He could not be “their” cat since they could not have a cat. The sensible thing to do would be to take him to the pound and out of their lives. My mother recalls the day the decision was made:
“I was sitting at the table, Carol was lying on the couch. Misha was asleep in his chair. We were discussing and weighing the arguments, trying to decide what we should do.
“The conversation turned to our last pet, Lady, the Belgian Sheepdog. With tears in her voice, Carol said, ‘I will never forget how bad I felt when we had to put Lady to sleep.’
“With those words, Misha woke and, crossing the room, he touched his nose to Carol’s. Then he sat on her chest, purring down at her.
“I knew then that no matter what, there was no way that I would part with that cat. We would find a way to keep him.” They did: they moved.
We saw the profound impact this pet had on my mother and sister. Like sensible cat-people, decisions are made with the cat’s comfort in mind. If the cat is happy, everyone’s happy.
But the clincher is this: Mother carried pictures of Misha in her wallet. Not pictures of her four grandchildren, oh, no. She carried pictures of her cat!
And as we listened spellbound to her “Misha” stories, we found ourselves becoming just a little jealous. What a fine thing it surely was, to have a cat in your life!
Oh, Lord, they didn’t know they needed a cat, but You did. They didn’t know that Misha needed them, but You did. The Bible says “your Father knows what you need before you ask him.” (Matthew 6:8 NIV) They never had to ask; you supplied the need. Where did I get the idea that You had to be begged for every good thing or You would withhold it? You are the good, good Father. And You love and care for Your children always. Thank You. For everything. Amen