I Love My Cat

     Clearly, this blog is all over the place.  I  left off last in the middle of our Canada adventure, bogged down by the number of photos.  And I will get back to that.  Today though, I have been thinking for the millionth time about how much I love my cat.  Cats.  We have two.  And I love them both for different reasons but I am speaking of cat number two, adopted in September and born in May, the month that changed our lives forever.

     After our Canada trip, the girls and I started visiting Pet Smart looking for the next right cat to adopt.  "Cuddly" was the imperative adjective.  Our first cat Lily is beautiful and sweet but also shy.  She likes to be close by but not to be held.  

     Whether actually selecting a cat or not, a trip to the cat kennels at Pet Smart is always a highlight.  The girls hold every single cat and want to adopt each and every one.  During the visit in which we found our cuddly kitty, the girls had identified another kitten, "Biscuit", for adoption.  We were taking turns holding "Hazel" mostly for fun while making that decision.  I had some misgivings about Biscuit and it occurred to me later that night that Hazel might be a better choice for us.  Coincidently, Lily's name had also been Hazel when we met her at Pet Smart, a connection that did not go unappreciated.  The girls agreed to give Hazel 2 a try and she came home where we quickly sequestered her in the Master Bath for a trial period.  Aside from the two dogs, my biggest concern about adopting a new kitten was Lily and her ability to adapt.  It was touch and go for awhile.  Lily went through a period of scary hissing and attacking the intruder but incredibly, they became friends.  Now, they curl up together for naps and groom each other.  

     There was some discussion of keeping the name Hazel for the new kitty since it was the second time a Hazel was chosen to be a Doyle.  We threw around quite a few names and ended up with one that wasn't anyone's number one but was liked by all.  Maeve.  A few weeks after naming her, I found out that "Maeve" means "bringing joy".  I don't know if I can explain how I felt when I read that.  Let's go with "a propos".
     There are things about Maeve that remind me of her name all of the time.  Her fur.  She has medium length hair and it is incredibly silky and wonderful.  Maeve is joyfully playful.  She equally loves knocking something into the bathtub to bat it around and chasing the laser light up the wall.  She lies on her back and swipes at my shoelaces and circles through my ankles as I walk though the house.  She totally ignores any mischief from the dogs and has been comfortable with them from day one.  Poor Lily gets chased if they even see her shadow but Maeve?  I suppose she has earned their respect.  As much as a dog can respect a cat.  

     By far the best thing about Maeve though is the way she purrs-- like a cross between a car motor and a massage chair.  I do not have to hold Maeve to enjoy her purring because I can hear her from across the room.  But holding her--that is the best.  It is a gift that feels like waves of love coursing through her to me.  From God?  I think so.  I am seeing more and more the way that God communicates His love to me in little ways every day.  Many times, I think I miss them because I write them off as ordinary, as in, "that's how it is" or "I know about that".  But seriously--why do cats purr?  I am sure someone could give me a biological reason but that is not what I mean.  What I am asking is--why did God make cats purr when it could have been otherwise?  I never wondered this before I met Maeve but now that I have thought about it, I will tell you what I believe.  God made cats purr so that He could love us through them in that unique way.  I physically feel that love when I hold Maeve.  And I am reminded that God has not forgotten us.

I love my cat

Maeve.  The black cat who isn't really black.

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