Sometime, well after the fall of Adam, God created telestial creatures like cockroachs... and CATS!
My dislike for cats was borne through years of observation and honed into a fine hatred during my missionary days in England.
While I always seemed to have companions that were deathly fearful of dogs, I have always loved dogs and they seem to have a natural affection for me. Even the most vicious dog was reduced to a vigorous tail wagging puppy when I met up with them...maybe it's a "gift of the spirit".
Cats, on the other hand, were a completely different story. It seemed that every house that we got into, that had a cat, would do it's obligatory rub against your leg, jump onto your lap with it's "you-may-pet-me-now-you-large-pink-colored-beast" look, which I would reluctantly indulge the finicky feline. Inevitably, the petting is abrubtly halted by a tear-inducing scratch and bite from the crazy cat as it leaps from your lap. (Note: A dog will look at you, acknowledge with a lick his gratitude for the scritch-scratch, and meander off. A cat, however, feels obligated to punish you for exceeding your time-limit of petting).
Back to the scratching cat. It's timing was impeccable one time as it was my turn to bear my testimony about a particular principle:
"Mr. Brown, I want you to know that I have a testimo....OUCH!!! &*#*$%@&!# CAT!"
The Browns never joined the Church. I blame the cat. I dust my feet of that cat. I'm convinced that Satan probably owns a cat.
Now, I know I will get the cat lovers of the world dander up (pun intended) and I am okay with that. The prevailing rejoinder of that misguided group of cat-lovers is that cats are:
1. Smart. Yeah right. Show me even one that has graduated from kindergarten.
2. Loving. I submit that they don't love you, they allow you to live so that you can feed them and change their litter box.
3. Loyal. Yeah? Just miss one feeding time and they are shacking up with your neighbor faster than you can say Pamela Anderson.
4. Clean. They shed. You vacuum.
5. Easy going. Sure...until you cross them.
As irony would have it, we "own" (or do they own us?) two cats! Yes, dos gatos! This is in direct defiance of my wishes (which by virtue of having two cats proves the utter lack of power and authority I wield in our family) and brought into our home by my animal-loving daughter, Kelsey, who apparently (and suspiciously) did not inherit my cat-hating gene.
I am awaiting the DNA results.
