Merry Christmas 2018 - Kitty's Memoir
Happy Christmas to you!
This is for those, like me, who may have woke not with scurrying tiny toes and bounces of little tots excited to see the morning light of day, but to a quiet, stillness to this holiday morning.
I noticed an extra stillness this morning, as a little part of my "family" is not present. I had to say goodbye to my little precious kitty yesterday. My "Pud" (Puddie cat) was a gift of God's love to me for 17 years. She was given to me in 2001, as a gift from one of my sweet students who learned that I lived alone and felt I needed the comfort of a pet. My student accompanied me to the humane society animal shelter to pick out the perfect little purr box: this little tortoise calico kitty grabbed my attention when she swatted at my hair from a crate she was housed in. She was laying in a twisted position so to reach out her playful paw under the gate, seeming to say, "Hey! Pick me!" Her paw was her trademark.
That little kitty went home with me and became such a little gift of God's comfort: I was in the midst of a deeply lonely season. I distinctly remember that Fall break in which I was so depressed I sat on the floor and wept, and she seemed to know. She came up by me, and like a little angel with a diesel engine purr, touched me with her paw, she looked at me in my eyes, giving me comfort through her presence and touch. She would continue to show me tenderness in similar graceful touches over 17 years when I felt down. She had her little ways; gently nudging you with her paw. Sometimes it was her way of communicating, "I'm here!" or to get you to play with her. Paper balls were her toy of choice, and being a teacher, buried at times with papers to grade, she would walk over them, sit, look at me and beg for a game of chase the crumbled balls. She reminded me to play, laugh, and enjoy a moment of fun.
Though it is sad to say goodbye to my fur-baby, I am so grateful for what God gave me through her. She was a cat, and I don't really consider myself a cat-crazy person; animals are animals, not people, but God gives us all things to enjoy. Sometimes He gives us love, presence, comfort, and joy in little fur-covered packages that fit so perfectly where no one else can get, and allows us to know we are not alone, we are seen, we are appreciated, missed, and adored.
I pray You hear His voice today, a nudge from Him, be it through the cuddle of your furkid, or beauty of sunshine coming through the window, the sparkle of lights or whatever delights your soul. He has been so gracious to me, in so many ways; He has given me joy and delight, comfort, and companionship through a playful, sensitive, gentle furkid for 17 years. May His grace and gifts abound to you today, even if you, like me, have had to experience a loss, an extra stillness this Christmas Morning, know He is still the Perfect Present to You.
This is for those, like me, who may have woke not with scurrying tiny toes and bounces of little tots excited to see the morning light of day, but to a quiet, stillness to this holiday morning.
I noticed an extra stillness this morning, as a little part of my "family" is not present. I had to say goodbye to my little precious kitty yesterday. My "Pud" (Puddie cat) was a gift of God's love to me for 17 years. She was given to me in 2001, as a gift from one of my sweet students who learned that I lived alone and felt I needed the comfort of a pet. My student accompanied me to the humane society animal shelter to pick out the perfect little purr box: this little tortoise calico kitty grabbed my attention when she swatted at my hair from a crate she was housed in. She was laying in a twisted position so to reach out her playful paw under the gate, seeming to say, "Hey! Pick me!" Her paw was her trademark.
That little kitty went home with me and became such a little gift of God's comfort: I was in the midst of a deeply lonely season. I distinctly remember that Fall break in which I was so depressed I sat on the floor and wept, and she seemed to know. She came up by me, and like a little angel with a diesel engine purr, touched me with her paw, she looked at me in my eyes, giving me comfort through her presence and touch. She would continue to show me tenderness in similar graceful touches over 17 years when I felt down. She had her little ways; gently nudging you with her paw. Sometimes it was her way of communicating, "I'm here!" or to get you to play with her. Paper balls were her toy of choice, and being a teacher, buried at times with papers to grade, she would walk over them, sit, look at me and beg for a game of chase the crumbled balls. She reminded me to play, laugh, and enjoy a moment of fun.Though it is sad to say goodbye to my fur-baby, I am so grateful for what God gave me through her. She was a cat, and I don't really consider myself a cat-crazy person; animals are animals, not people, but God gives us all things to enjoy. Sometimes He gives us love, presence, comfort, and joy in little fur-covered packages that fit so perfectly where no one else can get, and allows us to know we are not alone, we are seen, we are appreciated, missed, and adored.
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