The January Night Bob Didn't Come In

                 For almost two years and eight months, Bob, the orange and white Manx cat, slept indoors. First, he and his litter mates slept in a small crate that Angie had given us. Then we upgraded Tailer and him to a “kitty condo.” One night Bob rebelled by howling and climbing the condo walls. He usually never made a sound. Finally, Mother said, “Put him out.” He and Tailer found “digs” to their liking on the screened-in back porch.

                Each morning, the two cats awaited eagerly for their morning feeding. As soon as the other cats had been fed, I “sprang” Bob and Tailer. They loved going outside. They were out and about most of the day – hunting, exploring, and sleeping, often high in the Chinese elm tree. When they heard the backdoor open as I exited to feed cattle in late afternoon, they ran to the outside door, waiting impatiently to rush into their feed bowls.

                When 19 months old, Tailer lost his life by running in front of a car. We worried a bit about Bob since he and Tailer had been inseparable each evening. That first night I allowed Bob to play about 20 minutes in the hall of the house after he ate. He adjusted to life without Tailer much better than we thought.

                Bob loved to hunt. He never fought with the other cats, but he always practiced “social distancing” with them. I observed him sitting regally on the sidewalk. A younger cat walked up and intended to lay down near Bob. Bob stretched his right front paw out as if to say, “That’s close enough.”

                Mother laughed each night during his post-eating play time. I always wanted to hold him. He tolerated it for about 45 seconds. Then he began to squirm slightly. Not wanting to agitate a calm, compliant cat, I put him down so he could run and play. Mother chuckled and commented many nights, “He’s saying That’s enough.”

                Four years ago, this month, I fed Bob and did a couple of chores outside after feeding the other cats. Upon returning to the house, I opened the door and Bob zoomed out—ready for the day’s adventures. But that was the last time I saw him.

                Anyone who has had a cherished animal disappear knows the denial one experiences as looking and calling continues. After calling Bob just a few times, I sensed he was not coming back. Only a few times as a kitten had I needed to call him. Bob, the Manx cat, was always ready to come in for his “groceries.”

                As I prepared for bed that evening, the words of Jesus from Luke 12:6 came to mind. These words are embedded in a passage teaching of the absolute necessity of respecting or fearing God. God must be revered just as we revered our own fathers. Our fathers provided, loved, and encouraged us as we matured. Most of us had a deep-seated understanding of our fathers’ mandates for doing what would build our characters and teach us to fear the consequences that follow rebellious disobedience of standards held by our families.

                Yet this stern warning is followed by the comforting verse that enabled me to work through my sadness that night. Luke 12:6 reads: Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and not one of them is forgotten before God?

                Jesus was teaching his disciples or “My friends” as He addressed them in verse 4. Jesus said, “You are my friends if you do what I command.” (John 15:14).  The Apostle John clarified in his first letter God’s first command with this verse, “And this is His command: to believe in the name of His Son, Jesus Christ, and to love one another as He commanded us.”

                With the backdrop of a deep-seated belief that the fear of God guarded lives against wreckage, Jesus mentioned the tiny, insignificant sparrow, but He said, “Not one is forgotten before God.” The comforting thought of the all- knowing awareness by God of Bob, the missing Manx cat, gave me a calmness to rest in His care of Bob and me. To this day, sometimes during a stress-filled time or a time of grief or distress, I recall the assurance God gave that January evening, reminding I am never out of His care nor the people or animals I love.

To read about the early beginnings of Bob, the Manx cat, click on the following link:   https://bernadeanjgates.blogspot.com/2014/07/the-orphan-kittens-almost-90-days-old.html               

To read more blog postings featuring the orange and white Manx cat, Bob, put "Manx" in the search box at the upper left of this post.