Oh, how He loves you, oh...

"the animals that followed"

2 Kings 3:9

Blissfully quiet day at home today.  Cool and a little rainy, the kids and I just snuggled down and puttered around.  School, reading, nice warm soup for lunch... it was a wonderfully quiet day. 

For awhile I was in my daughter's room with her.  We went over her math lesson ~ Algebra 2 this year ~ and worked our way through a couple of practice problems to make sure she was comfortable.  And the whole time we did, she had a cat in her lap, and I had a dog in mine.

The cat generally shows up in her room in the afternoons, because that's where the sun shines in.  Today she was there not for the sun, but for some cuddling.  My girl was doing her schoolwork under a blanket, and the kitty was happily snuggled in her lap.

Our kitty, Hazel-rah {Actually it's Hazel.  But I call her Hazel-rah.  Nickname courtesy of Richard Adam's masterpiece, Watership Down.}

The dog, on the other hand, stays close to me when the Apple of my Eye is not at home, so while I sat on the floor with my girl, the dog sat next to me.  And on me.  And stuck her little wet nose in my face.

Holly.  They don't come any sillier, or more sincere.

And I started thinking about the different "needs" our pets have, when it comes to love.  Holly, the dog, is literally in-your-face needy.  Never far away, and frequently asking for attention.  Never out loud, though.  She only barks at salesmen.  And mailmen.  And gardeners and neighbors and deliverymen and joggers and garbage collectors, ad infinitum...  The only time she barks at us is when we're playing ball with her.  And for all I know, she's barking at the ball, not us. 

So she's quiet in her neediness, but still needy.  Loving.  Present.  Available.

The kitty, Hazel, has a far different personality.  She's not aloof the way cats can be.  She sleeps a lot of the day of course, but when she's awake, she's quite social.  As a matter of fact, you can't even walk by her without her talking to you.  A meow, a trill, a purr.... she's got quite a vocabulary for a cat. 

This is not mine.  This is my sister's cat, Finnegan.  Also a snuggler.

She snuggles with us, too.  She walks across chairs and tables and couches to get to the lap of her choice, and then she sits down, bathes herself, and then settles down for a good long cuddle.  Of course, she doesn't care whether we have plans or not.

This is my sister's other cat, Honey. 

We love our pets, more than we love any other animal in the world.  And our pets love us, such as animals do, more than they do any other people in the world.  They trust us.  They miss us when we're gone, and they want to be with us, but each in their own way.  And so we love them each a little differently.  Our attention and love and even how we discipline them is unique to each of them.

This is my other sister's cat.  Not to be confused with my sister's other cat.  Nala.  The name is Swahili, I think, and means "I have no dignity.  Please give me some privacy."

Now, I don't know whether you're a dog-person or a cat-person.  Or maybe even a bird- or snake-person.  But I do know that God understands and loves you perfectly and uniquely.  Talkative or needy, or even a little standoffish.  He gets you.  He receives your love, in the way that you offer it to Him, and He gives you love in the way that's right for you. 

~ "Yes, He loves the people" ~

Deuteronomy 33:3

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