Are you a feral cat?

My stately mother-in-law runs an immaculate, beautiful household while overseeing her gardens with the help of a gardener and her home with the help of cleaners. Every time I arrive at Pine Tree Drive, I feel as if I step into a five-star hotel with all of its luxurious offerings. “This morning I woke up to a startled cat sleeping in my garage,” my mother-in-law mentioned a while ago. She continued: “I think he is homeless and feral.”

The word feral sounded ominous and sent skitters down my back. It was only a short while ago that another feral cat had taken up residence inside her home unbeknownst to her. Living under her bed it had wreaked damage at night while she was sleeping. Upon discovery she had had to replace the living room curtains and undertake a massive cleanup.

“Shoo it away,” I advised.

The next week I learned she had fed it in the garage. Uneasy, I watched as my mother-in-law undertook a venture of befriending the wild critter with its mangy, spotty coat of fur.

“I’m naming her Calley,” she informed me one day. “After alley for alley cat.” Next thing I knew, Calley enjoyed a bed in the garage with an extra blanket. After a vet visit, her coat turned into a shiny bluish grey. One morning a month later, Calley allowed my mother-in-law to pet her and 2 months later she even deigned sit on her lap for a minute. As I went to visit, I discovered Calley had started meowing loudly on the doorstep in the morning with a clear expectation to be fed. “Wow,” she is asking for food with a clear expectation to be fed. “What a breakthrough.”

At my insight, Jesus smiled.

“All my children are like Calley,” he explained. “At one time you were un-owned, not domesticated, ragged and afraid of making contact. Some of you were aggressive predators surviving only by killing whatever presented itself in your way. Others of you hid, more comfortable in the darkness of night than in the light.”

“I want to lie on your doorstep and have courage to meow for food,” I confided.

“How about asking for more?” he suggested. “Like moving out of my garage into my house?”


The thought was preposterous, but the offer too good to pass up on.

My heart hammered at my impudent audacity as I asked: “Could I perhaps even sleep at the foot of your bed?”

His hands reached down and picked me up. “I’m so glad you finally asked.”

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