As I write this, Christmas dinner is in the oven. In between preparing different parts of my meal, I’ve done a few loads of laundry, emptied the dishwasher and washed a few other dishes as I finished with them. The sun has set, and all-in-all it’s been a fairly quiet day in the neighborhood. The neighborhood cat that seems to live on my front porch is doing okay, as long as I replace the ice in its bowl with water. It won’t let me get close enough to touch it, and it’s so jumpy I’ve named him or her “Spazz.”
Spazz has seemingly had a rough life or two. There are scars, no doubt from some of the other neighborhood cats that don’t seem to play well together. And its tail is about an inch or two shorter than normal. Today, it’s bitterly cold and windy, and Spazz has huddled into the padded shelter I placed under a chair several weeks ago. That and the regular helpings of cat food seem to have helped Spazz feel right at home. All God’s critters need a helping hand now and then. And I’ve noticed that the distance he or she keeps from me isn’t as great as it once was.
click here to continue reading at our January Epistle