For the Love of a Cat

I am a cat person. There are few intervals of time in my life when a cat or two didn’t rule the roost. But they’ve been precious companions, as individual and as unique as any of the humans who have been a part of my life. One of those furry companions was Patches.

Patches was a tiny grey and white shorthair kitten who yowled a pathetic greeting that belied his size when my daughter and I encountered him in the parking lot of a shopping center. When we completed our shopping trip, he was curled up under the tree in the small grassy plot next to our car and instantly was wrapping himself around our ankles with plaintive cries. We already had 2 cats at home, but it was hard to resist the kitten cuteness and the heartfelt cries, so we took him home. I nested him in a spare dog crate on our back deck, unwilling to introduce him into the house without a bath and a vet check up, put a “missing kitten” notice in the paper and inquired at the animal shelter for anyone looking for a missing grey and white kitten. When no one claimed him, I gave into my daughters pleas, gave him an extensive bath (especially after discovering the infestation of fleas!) and scheduled a vet visit. We soon discovered that his drooping tail was a permanent fixture. The vet confirmed that he had no feeling in his tail, and said he suspected that the lump at the base of his tail came from a traumatic injury. He indicated that as long as Patches kept the tail groomed and it didn’t become a liability, there was no reason to amputate it. Strangely, even though he could not feel it, Patches recognized the tail as his and kept it groomed and clean his entire lifetime.

Patches travelled with me through 8 moves over an 8 year period. While he was never much of a lap cat, he liked to stay close by, and kept his kitten playfulness even into his senior years. Then came the evening when I noticed his unsteady gait. When he staggered into the doorframe between rooms, my eyes filled with tears as I realized he was probably having small strokes. When I scooped him into my arms, he snuggled against me. And when I sat with him in my lap, he settled in with a small sigh. Since he didn’t seem at all uncomfortable, I decided against a visit to an emergency vet, and simply kept him in my lap. At bedtime, I settled him in the nest of a fuzzy blanket next to my bed. He was already showing signs of slowed breathing, and I was sure this would be his last night with me. I woke several times to check on him, and even evoked a few moments of purring as I stroked him. Then around 3 am I awoke suddenly with a start. After a few seconds of confusion, I remembered sweet Patches sleeping next to me. As I was getting out of bed to check on him, I heard a long, soft sigh, and when I touched him, I knew he was gone.

Grief at the loss of a dear, sweet feline friend is the price we pay for years of companionship, unconditional love and those moments of quiet joy when the rest of life might be chaotic and stress-filled and we have a soft furry presence to comfort and soothe us. R.I.P. Patches, with deep gratitude for the years you graced my life.

Politics of Love

THE “POLITICS” OF LOVE

The word “politics” is derived from an ancient Greek word “politiká” which means “affairs of the city.” It refers to the decision-making and governance process for a metropolitan area. It defined the way people were supposed to behave in order to live together, and formed the foundation for the decisions leaders were expected to make for the welfare and benefit of the people-ALL the people.
In the 21st century, “politics” has come to mean the way those in power control and manipulate in order to bring maximum benefit for themselves and their cronies, without regard for the common good or the consequences their actions have on other people, especially on those they consider undeserving or worthless.
The intention of Jesus is crystal clear. He unequivocally requires from his followers a “politics of love” that directs and informs everything they do to be done with care, concern and compassion for every human being. That includes those considered to be enemies or opponents or unworthy, and with special regard for those who are particularly vulnerable. The “politics of love” are countercultural and altruistic and often require sacrifice on the part of those who follow them. Followers of the Way of Jesus endeavor to practice the “politics of love,” which often earns us the scorn and ridicule of most practitioners of traditional, contemporary politics. We are labeled as “idealistic” “naive” “foolish” “unrealistic” and “socialist.” Nevertheless, as we struggle to walk the Way of Jesus we are motivated by the conviction that all people, of every conceivable skin hue, are God’s beloved children; that all people deserve to benefit from the fruits of creation and deserve to have a safe place to live, enough to eat and to be treated with dignity and respect; that all people deserve to benefit from the wisdom and advances humanity has made with regard to treating and preventing illness and disease.
I count myself as one of those who have attained some degree of privilege in the civil politics of contemporary North America, by virtue of being white. Being female has somewhat blunted that privilege, but not enough to give me the right to claim that I have suffered in any significant way because of discrimination. But I continue to struggle toward living within the politics of love, even as I enter into my 8th decade of living. It is my deepest hope that I will be open to opportunities that God places in my path to both practice the politics of love and help create small spaces where people who have been wounded by “politics as usual” can find acceptance, healing and hope.
Eileen