Not A Cat Person

Whoever is patient has great understanding, but one who is quick-tempered displays folly.

TANA HAD ALWAYS THOUGHT of herself as a strong-willed, non-cat person—until the summer a stray cat showed up at her back door.

The beige-and-black short-haired cat was covered in leaves and wet grass when he appeared on Tana’s patio one warm drizzly night. Tana didn’t know much about cats, but she recognized that this one was not well cared for. He was thin, and he had a wide scar on his head and a desperate look in his eyes.

“Well . . . hello,” she said, startled to find the cat on her patio while taking the trash to the outdoor bin.

The cat made a long, low guttural sound and took several steps back.

“I promise I’m not going to hurt you.”

The cat eyed her cautiously as he retreated even farther. Unsure of what to do, Tana placed the bagged trash in the bin and walked back inside, trying to put the mangy little animal out of her mind. But when she went to the sink to wash her hands, she noticed he was back on the patio, watching her.

Moved by his pitiful look and shabby condition, Tana took some grilled chicken strips from the refrigerator and walked outside. She tore the meat into small pieces, laid them on the decorative stone bordering the patio, and went back inside.

Tana watched through the kitchen window. The cat didn’t move; he just stared at her.

“Go ahead, eat it,” she encouraged him through the glass.

He continued to stare.

Eventually, Tana called it a night. But first thing in the morning, she checked to see what had happened. The chicken pieces were gone and so was the cat.

But later that evening he returned, meowing pitifully. Tana put more cat-sized pieces of chicken in the same place as the day before. This time the cat ate them immediately while Tana watched through the kitchen window. She repeated the routine for two more nights.

On day five, Tana set out a can of cat food. The cat didn’t seem to mind the change of entrée or that his server sat on the patio while he ate.

“I think I’m your dinner date, Leo,” Tana said with a laugh, using the name she had started calling him.

One night, after finishing a can of salmon, Leo tried to run inside the back door when she opened it.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Tana said, gently scooting him back with her leg. “I’m happy to feed you, but I live inside and you live outside.”

Leo walked back to his little bowl and lay down on the towel Tana had set out for him.

As summer gave way to fall, a cold front brought a series of torrential thunderstorms to the area. Tana moved Leo’s bowl under the carport to give him shelter from the rain. She also put a large cardboard box on its side and placed an old comforter in it for bedding.

“There,” she said. “Now you have a dry place to sleep.”

Leo scarfed down his seafood medley, then walked over to Tana. She ran her fingers through his soft fur and gently scratched his back—which elicited loud purring. But when Leo tried to follow her in the house, Tana put out her hands and stopped him.

“I live inside. You live outside.”

Soon winter set in, and as the daily temperatures dropped below freezing, Tana began to worry about Leo. She decided to make a space for him in her laundry room. She set his bowls, a litter box, and his freshly washed comforter in the corner of the small room.

“This is just temporary, Leo,” she explained, pulling the pocket door closed. “Just until the weather gets warmer.”

Leo purred and rubbed his head on his comforter.

That winter turned out to be one of the coldest on record. One night as the wind howled and the lights flickered, Leo wailed loudly. He sounded terrified.

She brought his comforter into the family room.

“This is just for tonight. Technically, you still live outside.”

Several weeks later—with Leo still in the family room—Tana told him goodnight and walked into her room. Leo followed.

“Oh no, you don’t. This is my room. You stay out there.”

And Leo did, for three more nights, until his pitiful cries wore Tana down. With a sigh, she moved his comforter into her room.

“Fine, you can sleep in here, but you have to stay in your bed. The big bed is mine. This comforter is yours. I will not be one of those cat ladies who sleeps with her cat.”

The next morning Tana woke up with a soft paw on her face—just like she has every morning since.

PAWS & PONDER . . .

In what ways did Tana and Leo demonstrate patience? What roles do understanding and self-control play in patience? Likewise, what roles do folly and foolishness play in a quick temper? What situation are you facing today that requires patience? How might you practice understanding and self-control in that situation?

Paws & Pray

Father, thank you for your never-ending patience and understanding. Forgive me for being irritated and quick-tempered with those around me. Help me not to make rash judgments but to see things from other people’s viewpoints. Teach me to love and live like you, Lord.