As promised, this is a
similar post related to cats.
I'm going to write at least the first part as though I'm a bit more of a theist than I am, and I'll even use the term "God" as my omnipotent power noun. It might get a bit more secular (or just less reliant on the faith aspect) as I go along, but I intend to keep the tone and nature of this entry pretty constant throughout.
In my twelve year history with cats, I've noticed a few similarities between how cat owners and cats relate in very similar ways to how God and humans do. When I've first adopted a cat, she has seemed scared, and sometimes angry, to be in a new place. Obie hissed at me initially. Ceri hid behind the water heater. It makes sense though, even if they are in a much nicer place than a cage in a shelter, all of this new world is scary, and can be overwhelming to a little creature like a kitty. For humans, the beginning of a life with purpose, or especially the transition from an unhealthy life to one enriched with spirituality, can be trying on people at first. Humans, however, have the benefit of language among them, and usually have companions to urge them on, keep them going. Much of the time a cat will find herself as the only one of her species in a home, with no one else to ask for help or clarification. She has only a larger, foreign-tongued being to look to for her daily needs and attention. Most cats are not born with an instinct to trust strangers at first, unlike many of their canine counterparts. And I think humans parallel this apsect of personality of cats to some extent, since without some initial explanation or evidence, they would likely be resistant to changing their life dramatically (such as adopting a new purpose in life, to serve, etc.).
But it is with patience, time, and repetitive acts of kindness that a cat owner begins to win over the initially distrusting animal. With a soft voice and tasty nutrititious treats, a cat owner may coax a feline out from behind a couch or water heater, and into a wide open space for the first time. It usually takes many failed attempts before the cat will even begin to open up to the owner. But the owner must be strong, and resist blaming herself or the cat for the lack of relationship. The owner must be vigilant in providing love and support for the cat, or the distrust that existed between them at first may return. Even if the cat misbehaves, or is aggressive towards the owner, those actions should not affect the love that the owner has for her cat. While discipline and admonition is necessary, grudges never improve owner-cat relations and will only create a larger divide between them. Indeed, forgiving is at the heart of cat ownership, and it is something I've struggled with mastering over the years. All of this is similar to the endless love that God has for people, and no matter how they make mistakes or turn their backs on that love, God will always be there for them, wanting them close by, so their relationship can grow stronger.
And all of this love and forgiveness is for a creature that sometimes ceases to acknowledge that the owner exists, except of course when the cat needs something specific. The owner, of course, enjoys providing attention and nourishment to her feline friend, even if the rest of the day the cat is indifferent about the owner's presence. After some time has passed and the cat becomes comfortable around the owner, it is usually easy to see the entitlement with which the cat prances around the home, as though all of these things are for her, and her alone. It is not the owner's place to shed light on this illusion, to tell the cat that all of these things were put there by the owner. And so, a favorite chair near a window becomes the cat's favorite chair. A bookshelf becomes a hiding spot. And if you're lucky, a few places will become spots where the cat wants the owner to be, so that the cat can hop onto her lap and nuzzle.
The cat does not enter into the owner-cat relationship with blind obedience or much trust at all, but over time can come to love the owner's presence in life. If the owner is loving and kind to the cat, the cat is more likely to simply want to spend time with the owner, and may
meow for attention rather than just food. I've been greeted at the door by my cats routinely for months now, and it's a joy to come home to happy kitties who are probably happier about your presence than they've been for anything else that day, or at least in the past half hour. It is this type of affection from a cat that I enjoy most, that the cat can go from being afraid of nearly everything, to being happy that I adopted her, and in return, showing me the same affection.
Perhaps the most intriguing thing I've found is that after some time with cats, they are sometimes understanding in ways I would not expect. Despite their independent nature, and sometimes their dislike of being held, I've been touched by their kindness in times of my sadness. When I've felt sad or depressed, or have cried, it is at these times when I love to pick up a soft, fuzzy kitty and bury my face in her side and hold her close to me. I am touched when a cat that does not like being held becomes oddly complacent and understanding in this situation. I don't think they understand exactly how I feel, but I believe they sense something is wrong, while also knowing they are not the cause. And despite their desire for freedom from my arms, they do not struggle or
meow, they just let me hold them, cry into their soft fur, and gain strength from their tiny, warm bodies. I don't have a God-human analogy for this situation. I just find it incredibly touching.
My kitties. I love them.
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