Last night, my sister was petting one of our cats, Olga. She heard what she said clearly sounded like the sound ours make when they jump down from something...something between a meow and a purr. She turned, assuming it was Nastya. The rocking chair was rocking back and forth fast, but no cat in sight. We searched the house and finally found her, sound asleep on our father's bed. Now, the only thing I can figure is that it was our old cat, Stripe, checking in on us...There was no way that Nastya could have gotten to the bed without making another sound, and she clearly had been sleeping for some time. I wish I could have seen him if it truly was him.
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“I want creation to penetrate you with so much admiration that everywhere, wherever you may be, the least plant may bring to you the clear remembrance of the Creator. If you see the grass of the fields, think of human nature, and remember the comparison of the wise Isaiah. “All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as the flower of the field.”
― Basil the Great -
I love those visits from our old pets. It warms my heart.
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