“There’s a chipmunk in the house!” This was not something I wanted to hear at 6 am as I was getting ready for work. “Where’s Nellie?” Keith asked breathlessly, referring to our sweet lap kitty, who is also a mean hunter. “Right there,” I said, as I suddenly saw Nellie, crouched in the corner of the bedroom, the unfortunate chipmunk dangling from his mouth in a death grip. Keith came in with the fishing net, which we keep handy for emergencies such as this, and we approached Nellie and the chipmunk. But Nellie looked at us with fierce eyes and started growling down deep in his throat, clearly letting us know that it was his catch and he was not about to let us have it. “We’re just going to have to take Nellie outside,” I said, so with Keith holding the net under the chipmunk in case Nellie decided to release the jaws of death, I picked Nellie up and we safely deposited him and his prey onto the back porch. Sadly, the chipmunk was not seen again, so we can only hope that he escaped – but Nellie had a satisfied look when he returned to the house later!
I have laughed over this episode, and Nellie’s determination to hold on to his prize (how excited he must have been to have a small animal run right under his nose in the house!) I wonder at times if God looks down on me the way I look at Nellie. How often does God look at me and see me holding on tightly to earthly things just as Nellie possessively held on to the chipmunk? I growl and holler “Mine!” when it comes to my belongings and money. And I also don’t want to let go of my hurt feelings, my jealousies and envy of others, my anger over past events, my critical comments, my prejudices. Just as Nellie dared us to take what he had worked for, I feel that I have a right to all of these!
Certainly I go about my life much like Nellie, expecting that my needs will be taken care of. Nellie often sits in front of his food bowl, waiting for it to be miraculously filled. He has trained us to let him in when he “knocks” on the back door by pushing on the broken screen. If he gets left outside in the cold while we go out to eat, he meets us at the car with irritable meows. He is the center of his universe! But despite his idiosyncrasies, we still love our kitty. After all, he is just being a cat and I believe God looks down at me in all my mess and says, “Well, she’s just being a human.” I do hope that sometimes God sees me showing Him the affection I receive from Nellie. He often crawls right up to lie on my chest, with his paws under my chin, and then just relaxes, purring contentedly. I want to rest in God’s arms in the same way, knowing I am safe and secure.