I had just fallen asleep when my phone went off at 11:57 PM. I saw that it was my daughter calling, so I answered the way all Mother’s do at the stroke of midnight,
The answer, that came in the form of a question, threw me for a loop.
“Mom, where’s Luna?”
Luna Lovegood is our kitten. She came to live with our family in May as a birthday present to my son whose pet cat, Max, had been murdered by a passing car on Christmas Eve. The reason I say he was murdered is because Max was the head of the Cat Mafia on the street where we live and rarely does anyone in the Mafia just die. It was definitely a hit.
Now when the my daughter asked me about the kitten’s whereabouts, I had images of having to go back out into the street and claim the little body of my sweet baby kitty. I was immediately awake and alarmed.
When I fumbled out some sort of response, my daughter said that one of her friends had seen something on Facebook about a kitten that she was sure was our Luna.
**Now, before I lead into the part of the story where I say that I went to the front door and called for Luna, please do not judge me for letting my cats go outside at night. We will just end up debating the issue and in the end, I will still let them out. It’s how I’ve done cats for 43 years.
Opening the door, I called for her in her customary Luna cat call, “Luna Baby Kitty!”
Across the lawn she came with her little bell ringing to announce her arrival. She bounced up into my arms and I brought her inside. I poured her some Kitten Chow and I sent a text message off to my protective daughter to let her know that all was well in the cat world. End of story.
Ten minutes later my daughter sent a picture to my phone. On the screen there was a picture of Luna. On Facebook. With my neighbor?
He is sitting inside his house and holding my sweet little kitten and the caption says, “My neighbors cat who seems to like me and my sister more than her own family”
My heart began to pound in my chest. What did he say about my kitten? How could he possibly infer that my kitten likes him and his sister more than her own family? I became so angry, I had thoughts of going right over and knocking on his door and saying, “No. She loves me. She comes when I call her! She purrs when I hold her! She sleeps on my desk! And don't take my cat into your house! ”
Then, I remember. She is a cat. She is a dumb cat. She is simply an animal who is driven by instinct and will not have to answer before the Lord when she dies. He is a man. He is a young man who seems most of the times that I see him, pretty lonely.
It’s kind of strange to think that the simple act of him posting a picture of himself with my cat could have ramifications in either direction. I can withhold the cat. I could start to keep her inside and never let her go out to chase lizards. I could deny him access to her by giving her very little time outside and watching where she goes when she’s out.
Or, I can let her go. Let her spend time with his family and look for opportunities to talk to them more often. Reach out to their family and find ways to show them love. I can use this moment to remember that God will use just about anything to get my attention and to draw me near to the cross.
Can God use my cat to bring me closer to my neighbor? Yes, I believe He can.
Can I allow my neighbor to say something slightly questionable about me on Facebook? Yes. I believe I can.