I guess my cats have turned eight years old. We got them just before Thanksgiving Simon’s freshman year in college. They are brother and sister and Minnow is a classic tabby cat complete with her black “M” on her forehead. Her brother Poirot is a tuxedo cat with an asymmetrical white mustache and white tummy and some, but not all, white mittens on his feet. In the sunshine, when he’s soaking up summer, you can see the deep brown tabby stripes under his black coat.
They’ve never been apart and while Minnow came to our home as Lucy’s cat, she has spent every morning and every evening basically glued to me. We have coffee together, write together, work together and watch movies, shows, and sports together. Anytime I get out art supplies, she climbs all over, including on me and has to examine every brush, tube of paint, carving implement and every time I set up a space for a photo shoot, especially jewelry, she’s right there with her paws in everything.
Poirot, to my knowledge, has slept every night for much of each of those eight years folded into the crook of my knees either on top of the blankets or underneath, locking me into the same position for hours at a time. He’s on his own until I go to bed and then, he’s my cat.
Minnow roams the three levels of our home each night exploring and climbing.
So, they’re my cats. I love them, I feed them, I clean up after them, I repair the things that they destroy. I worry about them.
Minnow is the only cat I know that plays fetch like a dog. She will fetch a hair-tie or a rubber band for hours. She’ll meow until you throw it again and again. She’ll try to keep it from you, just to keep the game interesting. She thinks she loves popcorn and cheesy Pringles. She loves to watch the big snow flakes fall and the sheds of snow drop from our metal roof. She smiles easily and she can change my mood just by being close.
Christian tradition tells the story that the Virgin Mary petted a tabby cat, leaving the “M” on her forehead as an indication of the cat’s kindness for comforting Jesus when he was a baby. I don’t know about that, but I do know that Minnow is one of the kindest people I know. Yeah, I think of her and her brother like that. They’re my friends and constant companions. They are part of my home, my grounding, my center.
I’ve been thinking about the “Centering Prayer” by Paul Zach and Kate Bluett that we sing in church every Sunday. The lyrics are simple and the thought process conveyed is simple, but the follow through is hard, especially if you try too hard. This is the core truth when it comes to faith that I’ve come to understand.
“I wanna be where my feet are, I chase my worries, I flee my sorrows, but what you give me is now. I wanna listen as my heart beats right on time.”
The amount of time I’ve spent drowning in anxiety about things beyond my control is amazing when I think about it. Time and experience and yes, faith itself, is not too different from Minnow laying on my chest and purring. Both serve to calm my spirit, my inner self.
The Egyptian word “Mau” for cat, is connected to the M on Minnow’s forehead. They associated cats with the moon and its ability to reflect light. She certainly does that. In more ways than one.
We aren’t guaranteed tomorrow or even later today, and while I feel very connected with my past, I know that today, right now, is the reality that is the most important. As I mature (as much as possible for a kid at heart) I learn. I do want to be where my feet are. I am happy to be home. I need to let the unknown and tomorrow go and take what God has given me, the right now. Right now, it’s more than okay to enjoy “m”y cat and these “m”oments to the fullest. Minnow centers me and Poirot keeps me on my toes. Sometimes, like all siblings, they swap personalities and she spins out from center and he eclipses her light. This is part of what keeps faith interesting.
