We had a cat when I was growing up (Sir Richard the Lion-hearted), but he was an outside cat who stayed in our barn. So the addition of Verge to our family has been a learning experience. We knew she was a different critter than a dog, but we didn’t know just how different.
She lies on the porch rail and, if Pepper nonchalantly walks by waging his tail, she’ll take exception to that tail wag and shoot out claws to catch it. In similar fashion, one day Pepper trotted by her, intent on his own business. She didn’t like something about that and suddenly hissed at him and swiped a claw at him. He recoiled, his demeanor portraying, “What was that all about? What did I do?”
Pepper is not her only target. One evening she scared me half to death when I took the dogs outside before bed. I was star-gazing and keeping an eye on the dogs when unexpectedly a soft tail swooshed across my leg. Or there was the day Jennifer and I were picking blueberries. Verge has laid claim to one of the blueberry bushes. That first day she just pounced on my feet. It was a warning; there were no claws on my bare toes. But subsequent days saw a drastic uptick in aggressiveness; we saw both claws and teeth. She does NOT like us picking blueberries off her bush. Tail swish angrily!
And then there’s the issue of food. We have been conditioned by dogs - namely labs, who are not simply carnivores; they’re omnivores. And when I say they will eat anything, I am including watermelon and cantaloupe in that list. The cat, on the other hand, will show a definite preference for a sabbath evening cat dinner - canned cat food. (Normal day food is just dry food.) She’ll finish off her half can of food and lick the dish. The next morning, however, when I took the food out to her, she said, “Yuck.” O.K. She didn’t actually say “Yuck,” but her body language and actions all made it very plain what she thought of the meal offering. So I put a little of the canned food on my finger and put it up to her nose. “Yuck!” So I let Pepper slurp it off my finger. Verge immediately leaned WAY out from the porch rail and said, “What did you just feed the dog? Did you feed him my food? I wanted that!” O.K. She didn’t actually say that, but that’s what it looked like. So I pulled my finger away from Pepper’s voracious attention and offered the food to Verge again. “Yuck!”
Yes, there has been some head-shaking and eye-rolling going on as we adjust to life with a cat. But there have been some definite benefits as well. I don’t think it’s merely coincidental that we’ve had a lot fewer mice in the cars since she showed up.
Jennifer has discovered the truth of what we told her at the outset: Dogs have masters; cats have servants. She also understands why I was willing to have a cat, if she was an outside cat. Verge sometimes sleeps in Jennifer’s room, but routinely pounces on Jennifer’s feet, scratches under the bed, and otherwise keeps her from getting a good night’s sleep. I think Jennifer will be more reluctant to take on anything which is almost guaranteed to keep her up at night. (She’s solved the problem with her two older brothers, now she has a cat.)
Another good thing is enjoying the funny things she does: pouncing on crickets, following us out to the garden when we’re harvesting or pulling weeds, pouncing on the weeds we’re pulling, etc. Pets all have their own personality and they can bring joy, relieve stress, and lighten the mood - even while they add responsibility, care, and cost.
But what I really like about Verge’s addition to our family are some of the observations it has generated:
1. People (or pets) don’t always have the same likes/dislikes/behaviors as you. It doesn’t make them wrong, necessarily; different can be good.
2. Don’t assume you know what someone is thinking. Unless they are very close to you, you’re wrong - maybe a whole lot wrong, but almost certainly a little bit! Our families, church fellowships, and other friends would be so appreciative if we’d quit acting as if we had them completely pegged.
3. Grace and patience are wonderful to receive - and they make relationships function so much more smoothly.
4. We may think that we don’t like someone at all. But oftentimes getting to know someone reveals that they aren’t half bad. We may find out that we actually like them a whole lot. I like picking up Verge and stroking her long, silky fur. Who’d have ever thought that!?
5. Expanding your family to include another member (physical family, church family) requires a period of adjustment. There are going to be some bumps. But remember: there are some definite benefits!
6. Each person (or pet) brings their own set of talents, skills, or gifts to the family. You are much stronger together than separately.
I now have more inspiration for writing newsletter articles. 🙂
Of course, most of these thoughts were based on physical family and friends, but we could spend a long time talking about being adopted into the family of God and other spiritual analogies. Suffice it to say, it’s just another good reminder that there are lessons that we can learn all around us every day - if we only have eyes to see and sometimes you can learn something from a cat.
She lies on the porch rail and, if Pepper nonchalantly walks by waging his tail, she’ll take exception to that tail wag and shoot out claws to catch it. In similar fashion, one day Pepper trotted by her, intent on his own business. She didn’t like something about that and suddenly hissed at him and swiped a claw at him. He recoiled, his demeanor portraying, “What was that all about? What did I do?”
Pepper is not her only target. One evening she scared me half to death when I took the dogs outside before bed. I was star-gazing and keeping an eye on the dogs when unexpectedly a soft tail swooshed across my leg. Or there was the day Jennifer and I were picking blueberries. Verge has laid claim to one of the blueberry bushes. That first day she just pounced on my feet. It was a warning; there were no claws on my bare toes. But subsequent days saw a drastic uptick in aggressiveness; we saw both claws and teeth. She does NOT like us picking blueberries off her bush. Tail swish angrily!
And then there’s the issue of food. We have been conditioned by dogs - namely labs, who are not simply carnivores; they’re omnivores. And when I say they will eat anything, I am including watermelon and cantaloupe in that list. The cat, on the other hand, will show a definite preference for a sabbath evening cat dinner - canned cat food. (Normal day food is just dry food.) She’ll finish off her half can of food and lick the dish. The next morning, however, when I took the food out to her, she said, “Yuck.” O.K. She didn’t actually say “Yuck,” but her body language and actions all made it very plain what she thought of the meal offering. So I put a little of the canned food on my finger and put it up to her nose. “Yuck!” So I let Pepper slurp it off my finger. Verge immediately leaned WAY out from the porch rail and said, “What did you just feed the dog? Did you feed him my food? I wanted that!” O.K. She didn’t actually say that, but that’s what it looked like. So I pulled my finger away from Pepper’s voracious attention and offered the food to Verge again. “Yuck!”
Yes, there has been some head-shaking and eye-rolling going on as we adjust to life with a cat. But there have been some definite benefits as well. I don’t think it’s merely coincidental that we’ve had a lot fewer mice in the cars since she showed up.
Jennifer has discovered the truth of what we told her at the outset: Dogs have masters; cats have servants. She also understands why I was willing to have a cat, if she was an outside cat. Verge sometimes sleeps in Jennifer’s room, but routinely pounces on Jennifer’s feet, scratches under the bed, and otherwise keeps her from getting a good night’s sleep. I think Jennifer will be more reluctant to take on anything which is almost guaranteed to keep her up at night. (She’s solved the problem with her two older brothers, now she has a cat.)
Another good thing is enjoying the funny things she does: pouncing on crickets, following us out to the garden when we’re harvesting or pulling weeds, pouncing on the weeds we’re pulling, etc. Pets all have their own personality and they can bring joy, relieve stress, and lighten the mood - even while they add responsibility, care, and cost.
But what I really like about Verge’s addition to our family are some of the observations it has generated:
1. People (or pets) don’t always have the same likes/dislikes/behaviors as you. It doesn’t make them wrong, necessarily; different can be good.
2. Don’t assume you know what someone is thinking. Unless they are very close to you, you’re wrong - maybe a whole lot wrong, but almost certainly a little bit! Our families, church fellowships, and other friends would be so appreciative if we’d quit acting as if we had them completely pegged.
3. Grace and patience are wonderful to receive - and they make relationships function so much more smoothly.
4. We may think that we don’t like someone at all. But oftentimes getting to know someone reveals that they aren’t half bad. We may find out that we actually like them a whole lot. I like picking up Verge and stroking her long, silky fur. Who’d have ever thought that!?
5. Expanding your family to include another member (physical family, church family) requires a period of adjustment. There are going to be some bumps. But remember: there are some definite benefits!
6. Each person (or pet) brings their own set of talents, skills, or gifts to the family. You are much stronger together than separately.
I now have more inspiration for writing newsletter articles. 🙂
Of course, most of these thoughts were based on physical family and friends, but we could spend a long time talking about being adopted into the family of God and other spiritual analogies. Suffice it to say, it’s just another good reminder that there are lessons that we can learn all around us every day - if we only have eyes to see and sometimes you can learn something from a cat.
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