Beech Tree News Network

I show favoritism between my cats.  Not in feeding them or how I treat them, but in how I feel about them, and I feel bad about it.  Brother and Sister Cats were raised on bottles by Garey and me, and they are my babies.  Blackjack just showed up at our house one December, three years ago.  I took care to make sure he had a warm place to stay, I fed him, and eventually I coaxed him into the house, where he stays most of the time, even when the other two are outside looking for some critter to catch and set loose indoors.

Blackjack sits next to me on the couch while I’m watching TV.  I rub or brush him while he purrs and keeps one paw on my leg.  Blackjack is content with that position.  If Brother comes into the room, he always jumps up onto my lap.  Blackjack eyes him with suspicion.  Sometimes, he even smacks Brother with the paw that has been serenely resting on my leg.  A fight ensues.  I’ve gotten more than a few scratches while separating the two.  Blackjack views Brother as a rival for my affection.

Blackjack is a very emotionally needy cat, and I feel as though I can never do enough to make him feel secure.  I understand that someone dropped him off in the dead of winter, and I’m sure that made him feel afraid and unwanted, and maybe he’ll always feel that way.  It’s just that I find it easier to love a recipient who trusts my love.  Brother trusts my love, and he wants to sit in my lap until he’s bored with me, then he moves to a spot on the couch or on the floor where he can stretch out and snooze.

From personal experience, people or animals who just randomly show up in my life arrive when I have a lesson to be learned or a circumstance to understand.  Sometimes, I look back and I’m in awe at the fact that Garey kept loving me in the face of my continually questioning his love.  I was a contortion of anger, insecurity and fear.  He kept on, however.  He pointed me in the direction of love, and God did the rest.  I try to remember that when I’m interacting with Blackjack.  

Blackjack has taught me that I can be kind and fair, and I can strive toward love, but I can’t make myself feel things I don’t yet feel.  That understanding has gone a long way in helping me make peace with my stepmother.  I used to believe that I had so much anger toward her because she was so abusive, but looking back, I realized that she was abusive to all of us, even her own daughter.  The real difference was in how she felt about me.  She fed me, clothed me, and took care of my basic needs, but she didn’t love me.

Maybe, I was emotionally needy or maybe she was weary of dealing with my tangled mass of naturally curly hair.  I don’t know why.  I don’t think she even knew why.  She stayed around, however.  She was good to my children, and that goes a long way with me.

Some people have a greater capacity for love.  My friends, Tommy and Wade Hines’ mother, Gingie, was one of those people.  At her funeral, her pastor spoke of the great love and acceptance Gingie showed to everyone she met.  Her husband told me about the student Gingie had taught years before.  After the student was grown, she sent Gingie a note that said, “You taught me how to love.”

If love is really a lesson that can be taught, it is up to me to do the homework.