Sometimes the “woman never sleeps” concept can be a blessing – even Providential perhaps. When my husband’s snoring got too loud (which unfortunately doesn’t take much for this light sleeper) around 3:30 Sunday morning, I went downstairs to sleep on the couch. I had just prayed, “Lord, please help me get back to sleep,” when I heard a thump and “meow” on the patio door six feet away. I jumped up, my heart racing. Could this be our runaway Sukey? I turned on the patio light and opened the door, but the cat ran around the corner of the house and hopped up on the block fence that separates our yard from the neighbor’s yard. This reaction brought doubt. However, the cat, staring intently with gleaming eyes, kept meowing and creeping along the fence towards me. In the darkness, I couldn’t tell if it was Sukey. It kept up the mournful meowing and creeping up, and I kept backing towards the patio door. The cat was certainly thinner than Sukey, but that’s to be expected after 12 days of living who-knows- where. If it was Sukey, she’d either lost or wrangled out of her pink collar. By the time I was back- stepping across the patio threshold it seemed obvious that the cat wasn’t going to be shy about wanting to come in the house. It dodged past me and headed straight up the stairway and then to the laundry room where we kept Sukey’s food and water bowls (and litter box). This seemed a sure sign that it was in fact our dear Sukey. Leaving the skinny Sukey to sniff and meow around the empty bowls, I hurried down the hallway to wake up the daughter who is Sukey’s chief caretaker. (Just the night before she had told me she planned to put away Sukey’s box and bowls this week, as it didn’t look like she was going to return.) By now my husband had heard the meowing and commotion. Among the three of us, there was much marveling, rejoicing, and thanking God over the return of our prodigal cat. And, of course, we filled the bowls.
For some crazy reason, I thought of a poster that hung on my bedroom wall when I was in grade school. It depicted wild horses running across an open prairie with the oft quoted very 1960’s phrase, “If you love something let it go. If it comes back to you it’s yours; if it doesn’t, it was never meant to be.” I realized that I had kind of adopted that way of thinking about Sukey’s return even though I preferred to also think of it as more of a “God is sovereign” approach. In this case, I think my baby daughter had a much more admirable attitude. When she woke up to discover Sukey’s return she hugged my waist and beamed, “Mommy, I prayed last night that Sukey would come home!” My baby had never stopped praying. Don’t get me wrong – I definitely do think God is sovereign, but every once in awhile I need to be reminded of Christ’s admonition to have such childlike faith.
Despite being thinner and collarless, Sukey is apparently in great shape. If only she could tell us of her great adventure and what finally brought her back. Did the smell of Hubby’s meat smoking Saturday night waft across the air and lure her home? Was her whole objective to rid herself of that annoying collar with the bell on it? Needless to say, “the cat’s got her tongue.”