Mao is a yellow and white cat that showed up at our house about three years ago.
We live in the country and have a slowly changing assortment of pets, so another stray cat was no big deal. For several weeks he watched and skulked around the edges waiting for the coast to be clear of people and other cats so he could sneak in and get some food from the back porch cat bowl. We watched his cautious dance for several weeks. He would start at the edge of the trees and work his way closer. If anyone opened the door, back he would dart to try again in a few minutes. He was equally cautious of the other cats, but it was becoming clear that he considered us his “home”. And oddly we felt the same way although no one had laid a hand on him yet or even gotten within thirty feet.
Gradually he would stay at the food bowl even if we went outside. We would talk to him and encourage him but he still was scared to let us get close. Then he began to flop down on the sidewalk as we went past, which is cat language for “pet me”. Talking softly we would approach and he would roll and even purr until we were five feet away. And then it was just too much for him. He would roll up and move off. Eventually it happened. He had the courage to stay and let us pet him. After that the barrier was down and he became a lover extraordinaire.
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Now, whenever I am able, I sit on my porch in the morning with my coffee and Mao. I love on him and he loves on me, without shame or hesitation. It is my favorite place to be. It isn’t elegant. I have a folding camp chair (because it is comfortable and portable), a folding table for my coffee and journal, and my cats. Yep, it has gotten to be a bit of a “thing” for all of us. By the time I am finished I am covered in cat hair and cat love. It is the place where most of my “aha” moments and brilliant ideas originate. I wouldn’t trade it.
The faces of love have entered my life in ways I never expected or planned. Some of them are easier than others. Some of them are prettier than others. Some have brought tears and some laughter. They all have changed me. I often still don’t recognize love when I see her, but I am learning. Thanks Mao, and all of you, who have had the courage and vulnerability to ask me to love you. I am trying.
“Love never fails,…” 1 Cor. 13:8
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