I am not a cat person. But I can’t think of a time when I didn’t have a cat. Usually multiple cats.
Although I’m not a cat lover by trade, I do love some people who are. Among them are my wife, my daughter, and my sister. Having pretty much lived with one or more of them nearly all my life, I’ve also always been in a cat-cohabitation situation.
So when one of our four fine feline friends passed away unexpectedly recently (he was only two), it was a most difficult day at our house. And even though I’m the cold-hearted cats-are-just-okay person, I did feel sad. Of course, not nearly as sad as Lois, who had particularly bonded with Elmer.
On top of that, she knew she had to break it to our five-year-old grandson Owen. He’d also made Elmer his favorite. So when it came time to break the news, Lois was careful. She was tactful. She was gentle.
“Owen, honey, I’m afraid Elmer got sick, and he went to live with Jesus.”
“Can we get another one?”
Lois, taken aback, “Um, well…Pops and I haven’t decided yet. But if we do get one, we’ll let you pick him out. Okay?”
“Can we call him Whiskers?”
Oh, to be so carefree! Oh, to be five again!
“The Lord protects those of childlike faith…” — Psalm 16:6
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