Biscuit

Cats. They are a world unto themselves. Sometimes playful, often snooty, can be very bad, and occasionally, whiny and needy.

My daughter loved them. But, she was horribly allergic to them. One night, she got into the car with her first husband and made a pronouncement to God.

"It is just not fair, " she began, "I love cats and am terribly allergic. Why did You give me this love and let me suffer these allergies? I want a grey and white striped female cat with a white belly and white boots and green eyes."

With that, they drove home. The following night, after a church service, she was waiting in the parking lot for her husband to get their car and into her arms jumping, purr and all, was the object of her prayer. She nuzzled and scratched the wayward kitty, let her down and looked for her car. Soon, the grey and white striped feline was back in her arms.

"Remember my prayer last night?", as she got into their car. "Well, here is my answer."

Prayer. Which came first? My daughter's mournful plea for a fuzzy companion or the cry of the owners of this teenage pregnant cat, wanting her to have a good home, but not willing to go through mothering a litter of kittens? At any rate, it would seem our gracious Father allowed everyone's needs to be met in the church parking lot.

Biscuit got her name because of her big purrrrr and her loving habit of "making biscuits" in my daughter's belly or hair. She has been part of the family for nine years.

Now divorced, our daughter is temporarily living with us. At one time, I too was very allergic to felines. And guess what, I don't sneeze around Biscuit either.