Orange Cat, and Black

Our Monday and Friday walk sometimes takes us round to and up what we call “the grind,” heading east on 2nd Court, the uphill slope from E. Beach Drive toward Linda Avenue. Generally unless the weather is bad, about a block or two in, an orange tabby cat comes padding along to greet us, stand to be patted and spoken to, weave around ankles, follow us past a couple of houses before turning back. It’s Robert’s cat and the cat seems to know that: I’ve learned to be wary, have had my hand nipped and scratched by cats that at first seemed very loving.

Around the garden and grounds here at Harbour Village, and especially along the west side on and under the boardwalk that overlooks St. Andrews Bay, black cats make their home. Don’t know how many, five or six maybe, identical. Skittish about people, not really frightened, but wary, guard up so nobody gets too close; though my granddaughters may have done at one time or other, the youngest is especially loving, kind and gentle, including with animals, cats, kitties. But these cats keep safe distance. 

Not having been loved and petted, they have seen — again the NT Greek word may be Mark 9:1, ἴδωσιν, which has as much to do with perception, understanding, realizing — what for a person is sensing deep in the heart and for a cat is instinct — as with seeing with the eyes, sensing that one can get hurt if one lets people get close. Especially too close. 

No Greek scholar, I don’t even know Greek except it’s fun to piddle around with, but ἴδωσιν may also have to do with experience, that proverb “fool me once, shame on you …” But then, people are not cats, are we, so IDK, I don’t know.

In life as an observer, naval officer superior and subordinate, human being, especially as a pastor, I have seen — again the NT Greek word may be, the first person singular of ἴδωσιν — what, aorist? -- that people who have become wary, reserved, reluctant, miss out on the dearest things life offers. The dearest. Not cars, like with me, or other material. Not intellectual — knowledge, wisdom, education. Not even the respect and admiration of folks who don’t really know you, touching and humbling though that be. Love. Eighty, I’m trying to teach me not to be so reserved, wary. Maybe people really do like me! Maybe I need to borrow back from Malinda that 1958 portrait “The New Ensign” and hang it here in the condo to remind myself of who I really am. Was, have been. Have seen. 

All said, it can take a very long time to win a black cat's trust and his heart back.

Wednesday, not a walking day but should be. Walk out toward the marina and snap a black cat.  

Forget about "... shame on me," take a chance on life.

Thos+