Milo, cat fashion icon.
We have two cats: Lola, a fussy, hissy indoor cat. And Milo, a giant, fun-loving, gentle, outdoor cat. They pretty much hate each other. Our girl, Lily, has fun putting them together in fight-inducing situations. Do you think this is how young cock-fighters got their beginnings?
It came time to take Milo the wookie to the vet to get immunized against stuff like rabies, and worms, and other gross/bad things cats get. We didn't have pet carrier and that cat does NOT like riding in the car. So we put him in a tall, roomy clothes hamper with a lid. We used bungee cords on all sides to keep it ULTRA-secure. Milo was his usual laid back, easy-going cat-self...until the engine started. The hamper began shaking, vibrating with hurricane-like force. About half a mile from home, he sprung free and began making hot, frantic laps (all claws on deck) around the car with shrieks and screams (his and ours).
How do you explain to a cat: "Hey. I'm your master! I care about you! I wouldn't do you harm. This is meant for your good. I'm getting you someplace here!"
Something in that short, drama-filled trip was painfully familiar. I'm sure God faces those same frustrations in the midst of my frantic protests--"I know you hate this, I know you are freaked out, but I'm your Master. I know more than you, can you trust me? I love you and would never do you harm. I am getting you someplace!"
I'll try to remember, God, when the journey is unpleasant.