It is still cold out there, the ground and pond remain frozen solid and the birds are having a hard time of it. I woke up early, drew the curtains, and saw a blackbird sitting on a branch just outside the window, looking hungry and plaintive, so I put on my woolly robe and went outside to remedy the situation. I have been having some plumbing problems, and the bird bath cracked. OK, so maybe I should not have unfrozen it by pouring boiling water from the kettle into it, but it worked for years so why this sudden cracking up? Now the birds have to make do with a plant pot saucer until I can think of something else.
I filled several saucers, replenished the bird feeders, sprinkled dried maggots into snow-free areas of the garden, and put a few extra seeds down in several secluded spots for the more shy members of the feathered tribe. In doing so I came across the tracks left by a neighbourhood cat, probably Molly who is a mighty hunter who knows neither rest nor compassion with the tiny denizens of my garden.
This put me in mind of my beloved Mouser again. Bless him and stress him, he never hunted anything except in a half-hearted sort of manner when I was watching, no doubt to show that he was trying to earn his keep. As he grew older he realised that he was loved for himself and that all that was required of him was that he behaved affectionately and looked cute, so he gave up on hunting completely. He had a tough life as a stray before we started to keep company, and to him hunting was hard work best avoided. He preferred his food well cooked and in a little dish, thank you very much! Playing with food was contrary to his very serious nature. He was, as mentioned before, a very grown up cat. He never played, not even with walnuts.
Some time after he died I had a very nice dream. I dreamed that I had died and knocked on the door of Heaven, which was surrounded by high walls. St Peter opened the door, took one look at me and said, “We don’t want your sort in here, go away!” Deeply hurt I sat down on the steps and cried bitterly. Suddenly I saw a cat beckoning me! He had emerged from a cat-flap in the wall of Heaven, some distance away, and was motioning me to follow him through this alternative entrance to Paradise . So I squeezed through the cat-flap, and that’s how I got into Heaven after all.
It just shows what I always say: If you want to get into Heaven you got to have loved. For Heaven is all about love, and if you can’t even handle the imperfect fragile limited love available on earth how are you going to cope with the full onslaught of the unbounded passion of God’s love after you are dead? You will shrivel up and burn to a little crisp, like Semele when she saw Zeus in his full glory! Loving on earth is not only important for its own sake, but also as a preparation for life after death. Not many people know that!
