I am a complete innocent, but the least thing these creatures do fill me with awe. Most of you have seen me tell of things they do that strike me as funny, and I deliberately try to put a humorous spin on what happens. Without fail I am often brought up short by the sheer poetry, the rightness, of what these creatures who bless me with their unconditional love demonstrate every moment just by being here. I look around and say, "Lord, what a miserable mess life is. Give me strength to tolerate that which is ugly, vicious, and downright evil. A smile once in a while would help."

If Traveller, the DSH tuxedo black and white, could speak, he would say, "Lord, what a beautiful place you have set me down in. Thank you so much. I wonder if there's something I can get into."

If Willoughby, the gorgeous silver tabby with the plushie fur, could speak, he would say something like, "Thanks, Lord, for this nice soft place to lie down and rest while I try and figure how to get to my feed dish with the least effort."

Sasha, the petite part Siamese would say something like, "Oh, Boy. A household that needs someone to take charge and knock some sense into the inhabitants' heads." Maccabee, the red miniature dachshund, would say something like, "Lord, give me strength. There are more cats here than I can chase comfortably at once. Sometimes they even chase me. What's a dog to do?"

Okay, that's enough foreplay. Let's get down to it. Just now I finished a batch of beef jerky and brought it in here to let Patty have a taste. For the past two hours the air has been smoky with airborne particles emanating from the half-open oven door. Critters and people alike have been drooling with anticipation, and I flatter myself with the thought the results are well worth the trouble. Patty daintily picked a small piece of still-warm meat fresh from the oven and redolent of the scent of hickory smoke. She stuffed it into her mouth and began chewing. Three cats and a dog watched intently as she chewed on the heavenly-smelling morsel, and four jaws moved rhythmically as she ate.

You couldn't have bailed out their mouths with a bucket. Just as Sasha leaned over and extended a hesitant paw to remind Mama she was there and would like a bite, too, suddenly Patty stopped chewing and swallowed hard. Immediately four throats worked convulsively as three cats and a dog swallowed along with her, as if the precious bite was shared by all present. Then they all licked their lips, lowered their heads, and sadly walked away, looking for all the world like small children disappointed in the apportionment of goodies.

I made it up to them, though. They all got extra snacks while I harvested curious looks from Patty.

Copyright © David Yehudah
June 9, 1999