I now have two kittens - brother and sister, named Jack and Jill. Actually, as is stereotypical for cats, they own me. and my Mom. Jack and Jill were rescued in an alley in downtown Lebanon OH and came to live with my mother and me about 3 weeks ago. They spent their first 24 hours with us hiding under the washer and dryer, not even appearing for food. Eventually they appeared outside of their hiding spot. They deign to let us feed them and provide bathroom facilities for them, but rarely allow us to pet them or hold them. They purr provocatively and very loudly, but it doesn't seem to mean that they enjoy us or even tolerate us. I am trying not to get a complex about this - but they really don't seem to like me necessarily - and I'm taking it personally! Don't they know that I'm the one who paid for them, who buys the food and patrols the litter box?
My previous cat, Jolie, knew her place. She knew that we owned her and that she was to serve us. She was independent, but was glad to have a free pat or snuggle. She appeared to sit on our laps when we were home alone, and disappeared when guests arrived. When Jolie died, I was looking for a friendly cat who wanted to cuddle, who would give me comfort when I needed it. It's a mystery why and how I picked out Jack and Jill.
However, being an eternal optimist, I am holding out hope that they will soon learn that I am a benevolent master and that they are safe with me. I suspect that God is also waiting for me to learn that about Him.
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