“Cat sighting!” I called out to Bruce when I saw the black cat stalking through our field.
As the weather cooled he worked his way up to our barn. We felt rich with this free cat coming closer, catching mice. He’d meow. He’d hiss. He’d meow.
We kept our distance because you can’t force yourself on a cat. But he worked his way toward our hands. Every time I drew water, he hopped up on hay bales we used to insulate our house to let me pet him.
Onyx. I named him Onyx. He’d turn back when I called, but if he snuck out at midnight, he’d dance away. Onyx settled onto our bed, crawled under the covers, climbed into our laps. He moved the dogs by a look, but chickens scared him.
Richard Rohr says we can study the world to learn about God and compassion. “Becoming intimate with God’s presence in one aspect of creation — be it a pet, birdsong, garden, or favorite wild space — can move us toward loving our forgotten brothers and sisters, human or otherwise, through compassionate actions.”
I learned how to be patient with mystery because Onyx came with many questions. I found God’s presence in Onyx — in that warmth settling over my lap and in that insistent love that sought me out. We did not have much time with Onyx. I learned how to be grateful for the days we spent with him.
I’m Katie Andraski, and that’s my perspective. If you’d like to hear me read this, click here.