Picking up Peaches from Purrfect Pals (from The Critter Room)
Foster Dad John has a new foster—meet Peaches Chutney. She is not a kitten but a beautiful elder calico. At thirteen she (along with four other older cats) was surrendered to a shelter. All five cats have hyperthyroidism, a common condition for older cats that requires treatment.
Lady Peaches Chutney (from The Critter Room)
Adopted by a community
Foster Dad John’s shelter, Purrfect Pals, rescued these five seniors from being euthanized as the other shelter could no longer keep them. Members of the Kitten Cam community raised over three thousand dollars in just a few days to secure medical treatment for these cats.
And now Peaches Chutney (aka “Granny”) has won the kitty jackpot being placed in the home of Foster Dad John. John has a special affection for seniors as several of his own cats fit into this category.
As you can see, cat and human have fallen in love:
This slideshow requires JavaScript.
Do cats really sleep 16 hours per day?
It’s funny watching the chat that goes along with the live Granny cam: “O! She moved.” “Cute meow!” Obviously not a lot of action from a senior. Cats are reported to sleep some sixteen hours a day. We’re getting a first hand look with Lady Peaches.
Growing mellow with age
Peaches is a cat that I instantly want to scoop up into my arms. Senior cats can be so loving and affectionate. I remember my Noah, standoffish and grouchy most of his life until he hit fifteen; then he turned into a total love. Bacci was a senior I adopted from my late mother’s nursing home and I lost my heart to him the day he tapped me on the arm with his giant mitten paw.
Old is good.
Calling for John
And I love how Foster Dad John’s “Granny cam” brings that point home. This Granny cam is such a wonderful way to promote the idea of adopting senior pets. They have a lot of love to give and want all the love you can give in return.
Old is scary.
Old is good but old is also scary. You take risks getting attached to seniors. They have health problems. They suffer and sometimes they get crabby because they hurt. And they pass away and break the heart you gave so freely to them.
Taking a chance with the heart
Elderly cats. Elderly people. My best friend just turned eighty and I am fifty-nine. Jackie is deep, gentle, loving, funny and empathetic. I can’t imagine my life without her but I know that time will be coming sooner rather than later. I know it’s risky to give my heart away so totally to her but I can’t help it. It’s worth my heart being busted to pieces just so I can be a part of Jackie’s life, even for a short time.
John and Peaches. Me and Jackie.
Yeah. Old is good.
Check out the Granny Cam on Livestream and see Peaches in action (though likely she will be sleeping :-)).
A month ago while attending mass we sang a song I had not heard in years. It triggered a happy memory; in my mind’s eye I was back in my cantor’s place, playing that song on my guitar, singing, and leading the congregation.
It had been a long time since I played that song. It had also been over five years since I had enjoyed a happy memory of cantoring.
The next phase of healing
A while back I wrote about losing my singing voice and then having it restored when my throat was blessed on the Feast of St. Blaise (see previous posts). I described how that healing was more than physical—that there was an emotional healing as well. That healing unfolded over time; I consider it now complete with that pleasant memory of playing and singing as a cantor.
It would prove to be the prelude to the psychological portion of the healing yet to come: how to deal with the fear of performing in public again, especially when it was in public that my voice would fail me.
Never again
Five years ago I made a pledge—that I would never again be controlled by fear. I made a conscious decision to accept what I deemed as invitations from God, even when those invitations aroused dread within.
The challenge
Two weeks ago I received such an invitation, one that inspired so much fear that it felt oppressive. After that sweet memory of cantoring, God was issuing me an invitation—to go public again with my singing.
Sounds simple enough. But to me, cantoring was that was the proverbial monster in the closet. It was as a cantor that I suffered mortification as my voice failed in spectacular fashion in front of a full church. Not once, but several times.
Fear was staring me in the face. Sitting on my shoulders, leaning on me, unrelenting until I decided how I would respond.
My response? “I’ll think about it.”
I kicked the can down the road. I told God I would “pray on it” when I knew full well I was supposed to accept that invitation.
God then responded with sweet mercy that I did not deserve. It came through that interview with The Priests (see previous post). In listening to them I was struck as they described how they reflect on the lives of their parishioners while they sing. They don’t think about performance techniques. They don’t worry about their voices. They aren’t swept up in their fame.
They are thinking about people like you and me.
That gave me great pause. It was time to get over myself and accept God’s invitation to cantor for my parish. I knew then I would have to run straight into my fear.
Taking the plunge
photo by Ellen Linn
So, I offered to sing at the 9am mass on Easter morning. Fortunately I forgot that it was the children’s mass and that the church would be packed to the rafters. I forgot too how difficult it can be to get parking and how little time there is between the masses on Easter to set up the equipment and get ready.
Remembering
I didn’t remember until the day before and then I was really afraid! I could feel fear rising up inside of me, paying no heed to my mind which said simply, “Practice, prepare and you will do just fine. Keep your head about you and own the moment.”
I knew in my mind I could do it. But the fear raged on nonetheless.
I broke out in a cold sweat and felt pressure on the chest. Fear pressed down to my gut.
I knew I had to run headlong into it. I called on St. Paul to come with me. He’s good at dealing with fear. And he has always come quickly to my side when I needed bolstering.
Time to face the music
I stood in front of the packed church, guitar strapped over my shoulder. It was ten minutes before mass and I wanted to sing to the people to help them get into the mood. It would also help me to work out my fear.
Some things you never forget
As I started playing and singing, the song flowed out of me as if I had never stopped cantoring. The mass began and I led the people in the opening hymn; the church filled up with voices singing “Jesus Christ is risen today, Alleluia!”
And at that moment I understood.
This is what it means to be living in the present moment. This is how you conquer fear.
You own that moment. You claim that moment. You call it out and hand it over to God and you stay rooted in that moment.
And fear cannot harm you.
Oh, you will feel afraid! That’s a given. But feelings cannot control you if you stay rooted in the moment. This where God can best help you because he is always in the moment. Time has no meaning for him.
Be not afraid.
St. John Paul II was famous for that expression. But I don’t believe he meant that we were never to experience fear.
I understand now that “Be not afraid” means fear will not conquer. It will come and it will go, and you will still be left standing if you call out that fear and give it over to the One who knows no fear.
The monster in the closet shrinks perceptibly when you name it, claim it and push through it with the Lord at your side.
And that’s what happened on Easter morning. The longer I sang, the more fear retreated. Fear is a coward when confronted.
Fear will try to come back each time I sing. But it will never again control me.
What has caused you fear and how did you overcome it? Maybe like the woman in the picture we just do it one step at a time, knowing our Friend is at our side.
Father Eugene O’Hagan and younger brother Father Martin serve a hot breakfast to hungry patrons.
On a rainy Friday morning …
It was not your typical Friday at St. John’s Food Pantry in Worcester. As some five hundred of the city’s poor streamed in for a hot meal, three new faces greeted them. These men radiated warmth and kindness as they dished up generous portions of scrambled eggs with ham, Belgian waffles, and various meats and vegetables to grateful patrons.
Surprise guests
Most could not have guessed that they were being served by world famous singing stars The Priests. That very night the critically acclaimed group would give a concert at the Hanover Theater to a near capacity crowd.
Concrete results from the concert
Frank Carroll arranged for the performance to raise funds for the food pantry. He invited Fathers Eugene and Martin O’Hagan and David Delargy, all from Northern Ireland, to serve breakfast at the pantry to give them a full picture of the good their concert would bring to the poor of Worcester. “I wanted to show them exactly where the funds were going,” he said.
“An eye opener …”
from L to R: Father David Delargy, Frank Carroll, Father Eugene O’Hagan, Bill Riley, Father Martin O’Hagan
Father Martin writes of his impressions in his tour blog at thepriests.org: “The centre caters for so many people who are unemployed, homeless, suffering from mental problems and more besides. It is an oasis of peace and connection … We had the great invitation from Frank Carroll to visit the scheme and it was so humbling: the graciousness of all and the gratitude of those who came to be looked after … I will always carry this experience: We are not what we have! This was indeed an eye opener …”
A well-oiled machine serving the needy
The Priests were given a full tour of the facility by manager Bill Riley who explained that some 2000 people are serviced each week through the twice weekly hot meals and foodstuffs given to families. Father Eugene, Father Martin and Father David chatted with many of the volunteers including students from Holy Name High School. Some of the students were on exchange from China.
Persistence pays!
According to Father Martin, Mr. Carroll had worked for three years to arrange for The Priests to perform.
Winner Emily Suuberg
“The whole evening was electric …”
The concert that night was a rousing success. Soprano Emily Suuberg from St. Mary’s in Shrewsbury who had won the competition to sing with The Priests “sang very well indeed and with a wonderful stage presence” according to Father Martin.
He went on to write that “The concert was met with great enthusiasm and the audience connected with us immediately … The whole evening was electric … the evening finished with The Irish Blessing and the audience loved every moment of it …we left the stage very uplifted.”
A tribute to “The Sound of Music”
One of the hallmarks of their U.S. tour has been in paying tribute to the fiftieth anniversary of the movie “The Sound of Music.” Each priest remarked how much the musical had meant to them during their childhood. Father David shared that “We are going to sing “Edelweiss” and we’re going to invite audience participation, get them to join in as well, have a ‘sing-a-long’ moment.” Father Martin had been most impressed with Lady Gaga’s tribute to the musical and commented that “she was amazing. We got to see Lady Gaga in a slightly different light.”
Juggling act
Just how do international singing stars who are also full-time parish priests balance everything? Father Martin grew thoughtful in his response: “It is a bit of a juggling act to be very honest, yes, but we are away for certain periods of time during the year; we’re away for two weeks at this particular point. We do have other concerts throughout the year but they’re in spikes. We’re able to go to the venues, sing and return fairly quickly. So we’re there in the parish most of the time to be very honest with you. So it’s about juggling three separate diaries from three very different parishes. Eugene is also under the radar of the bishop. It’s trying to put all that together; we strike the balance and it works pretty efficiently.”
Much to juggle!
Father Eugene among other things is a canon lawyer, judicial vicar and Chancellor of the Diocese of Down and Connor. He is also the parish administrator of three different churches.
Father Martin has been a Diocesan Advisor in Religious Education for thirteen years and is currently the parish priest at three various churches.
Father David has spent seven years as a teacher of Religious Education and German at Our Lady and St Patrick’s College, Belfast, and also was Chaplain to the University of Ulster at Jordanstown. He also is the parish priest for three churches.
Listen to the entire interview with tidbits not included in this post:
Remaining grounded
All fervently believe that parish life keeps them grounded. There is no time to be carried away by fame and glory when there are so many people who need their attention.
Thinking of parishioners as they sing
It is, in fact those very people that the singers reflect upon as they perform. “All our experiences as priests, whatever they may be, the pastoral experiences or the personal experiences with people can also be very much woven into the music,” said Father Martin. “So as you’re singing you’re actually thinking about people, you’re thinking about contacts, you’re thinking about a particular situation that you were involved with, or a time of vulnerability in someone’s life or a high point in their life. So that’s another aspect in terms of the music: you weave people and circumstances into it and it’s wonderful.”
Feeding on the music
Music feeds them spiritually. “I think with music, when you marry the music with the words of the psalms, when you sing songs like ‘Ave Maria’ and ‘Panis Angelicus’, it takes the expression to another level; you end up expressing the core of yourself which you can’t do with the spoken word,” said Father David. “We’re fortunate with the gift of music and being able to sing; it brings it to another place and you can’t but be affected by that, singing the words. It’s a beautiful marriage of the words, our faith and the music and it certainly helps your spiritual life.”
Heart to heart
The Priests
“We all had the same singing teacher, Frank Capper, and he used to say, ‘What comes from the heart goes to the heart,’ said Father David. “You really have to feel it yourself before you can communicate it to others and that’s what we really try to do.”
There is no doubt that their beautiful messages of love, faith and service resonated with the audience at the Hanover, along with the patrons of St. John’s Food Pantry.
In the ancient word, palm branches represented victory and hope. They were often used at political rallies. Carrying and waving palm branches expressed the hope that oppression and tyranny would be overthrown.
The crowds that welcomed Jesus into the city of Jerusalem carried palm branches and welcomed him as a “King.” However their understanding of Jesus’ mission was imperfect. They did not grasp that his “Kingship” was not about armies and borders, political clout or toppling a regime.
Jesus’ mission had more to do with changing human hearts and overthrowing all the “tyrannies” that rob us of hope; all the forces that would make us believe that evil is more powerful than good; that cruelty eventually “wins out;” all the inclinations to fear and dread our own deaths. That’s the power that Jesus exercised.
So on Palm Sunday, we Catholics do something rather odd:
We carry palm branches as if to welcome a victorious “King.” But then we tell the story of his violent death and all the human cruelty associated with it.
And that’s the point: Hatred and cruelty could not “snuff” him out. Jesus’ mission was not laid to rest. It lived.
And all the religious and political bullies that taunted him and tried to silence him failed.
Christians live with the conviction that evil must be firmly opposed and challenged. But we also live trusting that even when all the evil seems overwhelming and our efforts futile, that God has the last word. The end of the story, our story, the human story is not dark.
The saga of the King riding on a donkey reminds us of this.
On Palm Sunday, with branches in hand, we hail the one who calms our hearts; this strange “King” who invites us to victoriously trample on our fears.
Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new, late have I loved you! You were within me, but I was outside, and it was there that I searched for you. In my unloveliness I plunged into the lovely things which you created. You were with me, but I was not with you. Created things kept me from you; yet if they had not been in you they would have not been at all. You called, you shouted, and you broke through my deafness. You flashed, you shone, and you dispelled my blindness. You breathed your fragrance on me; I drew in breath and now I pant for you. I have tasted you, now I hunger and thirst for more. You touched me, and I burned for your peace.
from The Confessions of Saint Augustine
This prayer of St. Augustine reminded me that it’s not enough to ride on the surface of life.
It’s like how I feel when I go kayaking. I take in the scenery, enjoy the splashing of the water as I paddle, and drag my hand through the water to cool off. I always have such a sense of well-being when I go kayaking.
It’s all wonderful but I realize I am just an observer.
What if I became more a part of things?
Surrounded by the warm, clear water and subjected to the heat of the sun, the urge to go swimming takes over and I jump in. All those wonderful feelings of peace and contentment are magnified when I immerse myself in the cool water.
It takes some effort to enter the water. Maybe it will be cold. Painfully cold. I won’t know what the bottom will feel like. Will it be squishy with plants and mud? Will there be rocks to hurt my feet? Maybe a fish will bite my toes!
I can’t see all the way to the bottom so I have to go on faith.
For St. Augustine, going beneath the surface of his life turned out to be a life-changing experience. He finally heard the invitation. And it was so compelling that he took the risk and dove in.
We can gather from the words of his prayer that it was well worth the risk. It was the first of many dives into a wonderful unknown for this saint.
Are you being invited?
Perhaps this is the invitation you are hearing this Lent, to stop being a bystander and become part of the action. We can sit in our boats and ride on the surface or we can take a chance on jumping into the water.
St. Augustine makes it sound quite inviting to me. How about you?
Here’s a beautiful song by the St. Louis Jesuits based on the prayer of St. Augustine:
“Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit.” That’s from this coming Sunday’s gospel reading.
I’m reminded that every step of life, every advance toward growth and maturity requires a kind of “letting go” and the “death” of something that once was in order that something better and more fruitful can come to life.
Couples in love
A young couple in love learn this quite soon into their relationship. Gone are the days of endless freedom and going and doing “whatever I want, whenever I want.” Now, love compels them to navigate life together, conscious and mindful of each other’s needs and feelings. If either of them tries to cling too much to the way things were before, the relationship will not survive. A sacrifice, a “letting go” is necessary in order for love to thrive.
Expecting a child
This same young couple will relearn the lesson of “ letting go” all over again on the day they learn that they are expecting a child. Once again they will be challenged to “die to self” to that they can live their lives more focused on the life that will soon be born. In doing so, they will discover love on a new and different plane.
All of us, whether married or single, young or old, are caught up in the process of letting a part of our lives die in order to discover a fuller life.
Some of us mourn the loss of our youth. Others confront the death of some of their dreams. Or, we may be grieving the loss of a certain idea about God or the Church or even a fantasy or plan about how life was “supposed” to be. No one says all this letting go stuff is easy. It’s tough to do.
Which way is life-giving?
But, clinging to what can no longer be is draining and ultimately toxic. The journey of the Christian is an on-going embrace of the journey: to “let go” and embrace a new reality so as to allow the blooming of a new season of life, of existence.
Death to life
This is the faith that live even to the threshold of our own death where we relinquish the “outer shell” and everything familiar to us, so as to be embraced by something infinitely more awesome than what we can imagine. This whole journey goes to the heart of what Easter is all about.
So, how are you doing? How are we doing… on the journey?
“God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish.” The world that God loves is not some idealized place where people try to live in justice and peace.
It is this world: with all the crime, dishonesty, wars and constant feuding that divide people. With all the greed and pettiness; this world with all its sickening teenage bullying and Ferguson Missouris: this is the world that God loves so much. This world is so loved by God that he seeks to bring healing and new life to it.
Faith or “believing,” is the “ladder” out of the chaos we humans create in this world. It is ladder freely provided by God. But it is also ladder we freely choose to climb. No one can climb it for us. We must faithfully climb it ourselves.
Faith is not just a matter of saying “Lord, Lord” or simply wearing a cross around our necks or cleverly being able to quote bible verses. To believe in Christ is to live the life he asks of us. It is to pursue good and resist evil. Believing demands a constant striving for integrity in our lives and relationships. Climbing the ladder is challenging. It requires perseverance and energy.
But this is how the world in all its craziness is transformed: person by person, relationship by relationship, family by family, community by community, each choosing to “climb the ladder” toward harmony with God ,with ourselves and with our neighbor.
We’re now halfway through Lent. Let’s pray for one another. Pray, that we’d each find and embrace our own way of transforming our little piece of this word, the world God loves so much.
I decided this Lent that I would not travel alone. I asked St. Bernadette, the visionary of Our Lady of Lourdes, if she would accompany me.
In the course of our walk together I am rediscovering someone I had long forgotten but who has not forgotten me.
A classic movie
It began on the feast of Our Lady of Lourdes with a suggestion from a friend to watch “The Song of Bernadette,” a critically-acclaimed 1943 movie based on the book by Franz Werfel. It was available on YouTube so I could watch it at my leisure. The movie is long so I viewed it on my tablet over the course of three nights.
Unexpected emotions
That was a good decision. I did not expect to be so moved by the film and was glad I could cry in private. Each time “The Lady” appeared to Bernadette, the tears would flow. I did not know why. Was it the beautiful music? Was it the way Bernadette (played by Oscar winner Jennifer Jones) looked at “The Lady” with such love?
Maybe it was because of Mary herself. Perhaps my heart was telling me how much I missed her in my life.
More, more …
When the movie ended I wanted more. From the bookshelf I pulled out a work by Abbe Francis Trochu entitled Saint Bernadette Soubirous. I was doubtful that a book written over sixty years ago could speak to me today but those fears were soon put to rest.
My “go-to” person
I skipped over the apparitions to my true interest–the life of this saint in the aftermath, as a religious. What I found was a quiet yet powerful holiness based upon the smallest of details. Bernadette would soon become my “go-to” saint for lessons on fidelity, patience, charity, composure and self-control.
A counter-cultural saint
St. Bernadette sought to be hidden and forgotten, a difficult task for someone whose fame was widespread. To desire such things today is counter-cultural, even laughable; recognition and fame are hotly pursued by so many who believe it will supply the love they crave. It is an empty promise. Having experienced it herself, Bernadette knew where the true source lay.
Abbé Trochu writes, ” This triumph of Our Lady of Lourdes rested on [Bernadette’s] own testimony … It would have been enough to turn the head of a conceited youngster. But, forgetful of herself, the unique visionary was thinking solely of the Apparition’s glory, and was lost in her radiance. And so along she went, paying no heed to the crowds, wholly absorbed in her own interior happiness.” (pg. 244)
I want that; to be so attracted to God as to be single-minded, losing myself in heavenly thoughts in the middle of a noisy world. It is that submission to God’s grace, that total immersion into holiness that unleashes the power of transformation.
If I seek to become like Bernadette: faithful, patient, composed and in control of my emotions; if I desire to confront my weaknesses, then I must learn her way of holy absorption.
Starting with Mary
Thinking on Mary as Bernadette did is a good start. Mary is the epitome of faithfulness, patience and composure, fueled by love of her Son. Mary longs to mother me and I need mothering. The many tears I shed while watching the movie revealed that longing; it’s time I listened to her call.
The little things
With my two companions I can begin to learn this art of holy absorption by continuing my reading on St. Bernadette, asking for her intercession, and cementing the habit of praying the rosary each day. When I take communion to my homebound friend each week, I can pause for a few moments to hold the Eucharist in my hand as Mary held Jesus as a baby, and together, we can adore the Lord of Hosts. I could also meditate on the Eucharist as St. Bernadette did: “I think to myself that that the Blessed Virgin is giving me the Infant Jesus, I welcome Him, I speak to Him and He speaks to me.”
All little things. All done in secret but never done alone.
“ He found in the temple area those who sold oxen, sheep and doves, as well as the money changers seated there. He made a whip out of cords and drove them all out of the temple area…spilled the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables…He said, ‘Take these out of here and stop making my Father’s house a marketplace.’” That’s in this Sunday’s Gospel.
During his life, Jesus’ words and actions “overturned” more than money tables. Jesus “overturned” people’s ideas about God and life, about love and death. He challenged people rid themselves of the “clutter” that gets in the way of living and thriving.
A living temple
Have you ever thought of yourself as a living breathing temple of divine energy and potential? Well, you are! (That’s the teaching of the Church. It’s rooted in the scriptures.)
What kind of mental “clutter” is holding back your potential? What assumptions and ideas about yourself and life need to be “overturned?”
What are the unnecessary distractions in your life that are keeping you from focusing on what you know in your heart that you really need to focus on?
Let’s face it: sometimes the way we think can be our worst enemy. Some spiritual “housecleaning” is in order.
Getting angry and then trying to channel our anger to make constructive changes is one way of going after a more abundant life.
Another, more peaceful (and deliberate) way, is to make good use of the season of Lent.
Reflect on your life daily. How are things going? Be honest with yourself about your relationships, behaviors, and ways of thinking that are getting in the way of you being the person you want to become; the person Christ would want you to become.
Then, seek out people who will help and support you in making changes, especially difficult ones. Spend more time in contexts that encourage you to improve and thrive.
Breathe in, breathe out
As a temple of God’s own Spirit, breathe in a grateful attitude toward what you already have, what you’ve already accomplished. Breathe out the urge to cling and hold on to what is negative or hostile.
You may be surprised at how much more alive you feel for having “overturned” a few habits that may be robbing you of the energy that is God’s gift.
This weekend marked the first anniversary of the death of a 4-day-old kitten named Peter. After witnessing his passing with a thousand other kitten cam viewers on The Critter Room Kitten Cam, I wrote about this tiny creature’s impact on a community(click here).
Peter’s anniversary was noted on Facebook this past weekend
with an amazing outpouring.
Cat lovers are likely the only ones to understand this phenomenon; everyone else would shake their heads in disbelief and dismiss us as “crazy.”
Before discovering the Critter Room community I would have done the same. Now I am one of those “crazies” because The Critter Room community demonstrates again and again that every creature matters, animal and human.
Tactile remembrances
Peter (for those of you who don’t know) was part of a litter known as the Ghostbuster kittens(in honor of Harold Ramis who had recently passed away). Peter’s two brothers, Egon and Ray, and their mother Janine, were adopted as a family by one of the kitten cam viewers whom we affectionately dub “Ghosties.” In her remembrance of Peter, “Ghosties” recalled the lovely acts of generosity that resulted from his short life:
Adoption day is a big deal for every foster kitten and mama cat – the day that they graduate from being a rescue to being a permanent member of a loving family. All of the Critter Room fosters – kittens and mama cats – have been adopted. And to one very special kitten cam viewer, it just didn’t seem right that Peter would be forever a rescue, that he would not graduate with his brothers and his mama. And so it was that on adoption day not only did we learn that an anonymous kitten cam viewer had kindly paid Janine’s adoption fee, but we learned also that another anonymous viewer had adopted Peter, and would be receiving his tags.
But that wasn’t enough. Peter needed to be reunited with his brothers and his mama, to be with them forever. And so care for his tags has now been entrusted to us, bringing him in spirit into our household and family, alongside Egon, Ray, and Janine. It brings us an extended family too, since this doesn’t change who adopted Peter, and who will always be his family. And of course, his memory is entrusted to all of us who knew him, however fleetingly. Click here for the full story.
This lovely shadow box tells the story:
Generous living and giving
The Critter Room community is but one example of kindness and generosity poured out for cats and their owners. The first live cam that I followed was known as Seven Kittens. In that litter, a little runt with no hair who resembled Yoda captured our hearts.
“Runty” turned into the magnificent Loki. Recently we learned that Loki, at only two, has developed a heart condition that will likely shorten his life. The enormous cost of his emergency visit to the vet after suffering heart failure was immediately assumed by his Facebook page community, literally within days of the event.
Loki’s owner, Nat, has experienced first hand the caring of a community.
Needed reminders of love and grace
I write about many things on this blog, all with this in mind: we are surrounded in our world with tactile reminders of love and grace. When we choose to belong to something bigger than ourselves that is life-giving, great things will happen.
With all the ugliness of the world splashed all over our TV screens and throughout the internet, it is helpful, and necessary, to remember that good does exists all around us.
Good exists in quiet pockets, populated by quiet and gentle people who laugh, cry, mourn and celebrate together.
Whether it be “in the flesh” through our families and friends, or in the virtual world through Facebook and other social media, good is still out there, alive and well and thriving.
This is why, for me, live kitten cams go far beyond obsessing over kittens. It’s a concrete reminder that grace exists, moving us to life-giving and wonderful things.
Peaches is a cat that I instantly want to scoop up into my arms. Senior cats can be so loving and affectionate. I remember my Noah, standoffish and grouchy most of his life until he hit fifteen; then he turned into a total love. Bacci was a senior I adopted from my late mother’s nursing home and I lost my heart to him the day he tapped me on the arm with his giant mitten paw.
Elderly cats. Elderly people. My best friend just turned eighty and I am fifty-nine. Jackie is deep, gentle, loving, funny and empathetic. I can’t imagine my life without her but I know that time will be coming sooner rather than later. I know it’s risky to give my heart away so totally to her but I can’t help it. It’s worth my heart being busted to pieces just so I can be a part of Jackie’s life, even for a short time.
Join Susan Bailey’s Email List (special surprises just for you!)
Be as One 