A Cat’s Divine Appointment

Did you ever believe in a divine appointment? I mean, something that worked together so perfectly that it had to be orchestrated by God in order to unfold properly. Something that, if man touched, would fall apart like a house of cards built on a rickety three-legged table.

It happened to me recently. Actually, it happened to a cat I now own. If you’ve been to my house or been reading my blog for any length of time, you know our pet burden is already far too high. All rescues, we have Winston, the huge, stupid, lovable lab. Toby Flenderson, the dog with a personality deficit. Kitty, a barn cat who came to live with us two years ago. Stanley the Chemo Cat, a sweet fatboy who was chosen by Kylie to sit with her during treatment.

In the last weeks, our little patient wanted a baby kitty. Actually, she…