Friday, December 3, 2010
Maddox the Magnificent, Part 2 (or KittyBoy Genius)
When we last talked, I'd introduced you to the newest member of our home-zoo, Maddox the kitten, affectionately called Maddox the Magnificent by Jot. I've affectionately (or not) renamed him MadMax the Assassin Cat. But that's another story. Since you last saw him, he's taken over the house, whipped the dogs into shape, made two trips to the vet, and had a delicate (ahem) surgery scheduled for just before Christmas. But he's also been teaching us lessons. He's taught the kids that, unlike dogs, when you tease kittens they seek revenge. He's taught hubby that kittens can sleep so soundly when snuggled up to you that they appear dead; even sometimes after you shake them. And the little guy's reminded me of another lesson about just how much God loves me (and you!).
One afternoon shortly after MadMax moved into the house I found a few spare hours squeezed in between working, cooking, and running around like the proverbial headless chicken and took the little guy to the vet. I knew he had fleas and despite my countless baths (not a job for the weak), I couldn't get rid of them. And if he was going to live in the house he needed his vaccinations. So, in the carrier he went and off we headed to fix the kittyboy up.
The vet laughed at his blond-fluff appearance, cooed at his reluctance to exit the carrier, and cringed at the fleas vacationing in his long locks. The poor cat didn't know what hit him! He received two shots to rid him of untold maladies, a shot of some yucky yellow cream down his throat to kill the worms in his belly (yes, he had them), a dose of a smelly, oily topical to fend of fleas (yes), ear mites (oh, yeah), and more worms (you betcha). A thorough investigation of all his parts and a not-to-welcome thermometer in an unmentionable place sent him scurrying back into the carrier wide-eyed and fluff-tailed.
When I finally deposited him at home, you won't believe what that filthy, parasite-invested, diseased feline fiasco did. He didn't wring his hands thinking of the bad things he had done. He didn't slink embarrassed that he was full of gross stuff and wait to emerge when he was cleaner and healthier. He didn't scratch his way through the screen and run away, too mortified to face the family who loved him now that he knew how far from perfect he really was. Nope. None of that. He slept.
Yes, he crawled into his little bed under my desk and slept the afternoon away, only to awaken when the calls from the kids after school floated through the open window. He purred in response to their petting. He wove in and out of their legs as they stood making snacks. He crawled sleepily into their laps as they perched on the couch to watch cartoons. In short--he reveled in their lavish love of him.
Unlike so many "smarter" humans, that kitty didn't try to get himself clean, right, or holy before he accepted the love of his master. How many people do you know who try to clean themselves up, get their life in gear, or walk the straight-and-narrow before they will accept the love and salvation of their Master? We should take a lesson from a tiny kitten. Submit to the perfect care of the One Who loves us and He will become the Remedy for all that ails us.
Just like Jot says, "Maddox, you're a genius!"
Nikki Studebaker Barcus