I don't like cats. Not in the least. Oh sure they can be very cheerful friends and bring lots of joy to this existence. But I don't like them. At all. In my head I am re-writing the popular Dr Seuss book "Green Eggs and Ham" ... the new title is "Dumb Cats and Flan" ... definitely not worth quoting for you. If you've ever read the book you can probably re-write it yourself.
So right now you have a crucial decision to make. You're asking yourself "Self ('cause who really calls themselves by their own name?!) ... what on earth does Josh's dislike for cats have to do with praying for money? Three blogs in and this nut job is not making sense anymore (if he ever did before). Do I really want to read on forever to see the connection? It's like a game of Tri-Bond gone horribly wrong! For those adventurous souls (or those with countless hours in the day and clearly nothing better to do) with curiousity that would make George (the monkey ... people you HAVE to keep up!) turn away in shame, please read on for the exciting conclusion.
I really cannot stand cats. But they LOVE me! I think they may be horribly mean creatures and they know I am so allergic to them and they like the feeling of power they have over this poor biped animal. Maybe not, but I just avoid them like the plague. That is ... until a little over three years ago.
It was Karen's idea really. She had that "twinkle in the eye" and I have not yet learned in 12 years how to resist that look. "Can we keep her?" she asked me. What choice did I have? If we left her behind there is no chance she would have survived to adulthood, let alone the breezy summer night. So we brought her home and she has been with us ever since. And you know the funny thing is that the noise she makes and her hair that ends up all over the place really don't bother me like they have with other cats. And she LOVES me! She is always playing around my feet and just begging me to pick her up and cuddle with her. AND I DO IT!!! Like some lovesick teenager I just melt when she turns those cute eyes up and me and says "Daddy I love you. Pick me up!"
(Holy crap! This guy's off the deep end! His freakin' cat talks to him?! I am definitely not interested in the connection with praying for money anymore ... unless it's for psychiatric help 'cause this guy needs it bad. I better keep reading. Maybe I'll start praying for him too.)
Okay, so you're probably getting tired of waiting for the connection to the title of the post so I'll "land the plane" (this is what one of my co-workers used to tell me to do when the stories got too long ... I heard it way too often). It began one summer even... huh? what's that? oh right the money and cat connection ... got it!
As a family we say prayers together every night. (What in the ? We just told him to land the plane! Like the characters in the Clue movie: "Get on with IT!") We take turns and once you say your prayer then you get to pick who goes next. Our cat gets very upset and will run out of the room if she is not one of the first ones picked. Then she always picks "mommy" or "daddy" after a long, deliberate pause while her eyes scan the room for reverent children. But her prayers are always genuine and she is rather aware of the needs of the individual family members. (Seriously?! Now the cat prays with them?! What a waste of my precious time in life!)
So tonight just before prayers she walks over and curls up on my arm (I'm laying on the floor at this point). I ask her "What's up?" and she says to me "I had a bad day." It is hard to understand her (of course you idiot! she's a CAT!) but we've had her for so long now that I am pretty good at knowing what she is trying to say, even if the words are more just sounds. She goes on to tell me that "Vannah" (that's our 4-year old, Savannah, but she can't say her name ... yet) wouldn't play with her and that "Book" (that's our 6-year old Brooklyn, but Rs are hard for our precious cat to pronounce ... cut her some slack) was mean to her.
All of that leads to this final, closing paragraph. In her prayers tonight, our beloved cat made sure to ask for Book and Vannah's dentist appointments to go well tomorrow (they are both having teeth pulled). This was sweet and just the cutest thing ... but then she began to tell a story (I think, still hard to understand even the "Amen" at the end) about how excited she was that Vannah and Book were going to get "yots of money fum da toof faiwy." So I think when you're young it's okay to "pray for money" especially if it is for your sisters who you love so much. What say you blog-followers?
Editor's Note: Catalina Jacquelle Case (our "cat" who turned 3 years old in June) is just adorable. I have many more stories to share of her life so far, but she brightens every single day with her smile and unique perspective on life. She has prayed for Santa Claus (to be able to make her lots of toys and dolls), Pooh Bear (that he can find some honey), and more than once for her baby dolls (who apparently were very sick at the time). It is such a blessing to have 6 beautiful children and I'm finally okay with being called a cat-lover!