In our household, there are three cats: Lamont Cranston, Patchtricia (Patch), and Pawline (Paw). They are feral cats that began life in the back wall of our neighbors shed. Very soon in their young lives, their mother was run over by a truck. I’m not sure how they survived to begin with, but soon the littlest one, Patch, arrived at the top of the steps in our backyard and made a tiny, “mew” when my wife, Doreen was on the back porch. Somewhat to my dismay, Doreen went into the kitchen got a tin of tuna and opened and went outside to give to these feral cats. They loved it.
Soon, they were being fed daily, water was put out, and then I made a small shelter for them out of a storage container. As winter approached a larger shelter was made, heated water dishes and the like came. When we left for the south the neighbors assumed the daily chores to ensure their survival.
Then the cats moved into my office, a building separate from the house. They liked that a lot sharpening the claws on the carpet and a newly built pet tower. They could curl up in front of the fireplace and enjoy looking out the windows to the cold cruel world they now were removed from. Then they moved into the house, which had more places to explore and enjoy. They kept to themselves a good deal but were always prompt in coming for morning and evening treats, and gourmet suppers.
We then moved to another town and a smaller home and, perhaps traumatized by the move, they spent more and more time with us. The smallest one, Patch, follows Doreen around like a puppy and snuggles up beside her leg when she sits in her recliner. Lamont will sit on my lap on rare occasions but loves snuggling in on Doreen’s lap, maneuvering around until he was positioned just right so she could scratch his belly. Paw was the most aloof, but as I began to pet her more, she began to look forward to her special petting time finally becoming addicted to it and now meows loudly if she feels she is in need of petting.
Cats, by nature, are aloof, independent creatures, who may enjoy human contact and affection. They may even crave that attention, but when their needs are met they meander on their autonomous way. Cats are by nature conservatives, wanting independence and autonomy and the freedom to do what they want to do when they want to do it. Thus their theology is that of folk who want the individual attention of their gods (human caretakers/servants) but reserve the privilege to be self-directed beings. They may bask in the love of their caretakers, but they also want to be left alone to their own devices whenever they please. They purr for two primary reasons, because they are happy or because they are in fear. The two are connected to their relationship to their caretakers.
While there are no dogs currently in our household, there have been a few. Dogs have a much different nature in relation to cats. They are totally and unapologetically devoted to their gods, human caretakers. If you are out of their presence for two hours or two days, you are met with unmitigated affection and love. Their tales wag furiously, the jump to embrace you and lick your face with unbridled love and affection. Their owners may treat them abominably or lovingly, either way, their dogs love them without reserve. Their theology is clear; they love unconditionally with complete devotion.
So, where do we stand in comparison to cats and dogs in our relationship to our God? Do we love our God unconditionally and center our lives around our God with complete devotion at all times, or do we ask God to provide for our needs and comfort and care of us as needed but maintain our independence to choose to be with God at times and away from God at other times?
I suspect we are more cat-like than dog-like.
Let us bow our heads and purr together…
If you want to be loved unconditionally get a dog.
If you want to love unconditionally get a cat.
