Lesson from cats

I don't like cats. Infact, I would never had one even though it was given to me for free. I'm always into dogs. I would have a big lean labrador dog in the house if it was up to me. But bad luck, my sister and mother were totally unagree with me. They LOVE cats, especially my sister. When we were still at home several years back, she got those little skinny smelly cats from somewhere in neighborhood where nobody wanted them. There were three of them, all could barely open their eyes because they were so young, and partly because of those dirty blob stuck on their eyes. Fortunately, my dad shared my believes about cats. We tried to prevent my sister from get them in the house by asking her hard responsibilities upon them: she should clean them up, feed them, bring them to the vet, trained them to behave properly. I thought it should prevent those wretch from being the part of the family, but how wrong I was.

My sister was glued to them already, and she bravely said yes to everything we asked. So begin the Invasion of Smelly Tickle Cats; they went everywhere around the house, unrestricted, sleeping sometimes together with her, and were craddled most of the time in her arms. They jumped on the table when we had meals and sniffing around with those dirty wet noses. Can you imagine, those hairy smelly misreable cats walking around our gleaming floor? Had anyone ever heard of taxoplasma or e-coli or worm infection through cats? Nothing like vaccination have ever happened to them. I didn't even remember if my sister cleaned them up properly before bringing them into the house. I had to apply a court order for they not to get closer than 2 meters from me. But however good my sister was to them, one day one of them accidentally being crushed to death by my mother's car. My sister conducted an honored funeral ceremony on a hill close to home, attended by her friends and my mother and my gran. Have you ever heard of such a fuss being made over a dead cat??? Oh, how I hate those creatures!

Then something changed my view about cats in general. Several years ago when I first came to Holland and saw Holland's cat for the first time, I couldn't believe my eyes. Were those fat, fluffy cute animal the same kind with the skinny miserable wretch we had at home? Their price was more expensive than what my parents earned in one moth. Their size was like twice as big and three times as fat as our cats. They normally curled up comfortably in a sofa in front of the heater. Their foods were probably better than what my people eat at home; pure meats or cat biscuits supplemented with nutrition and all vitamins you could think of. They were always smiling and playing around, they looked exactly like the cats you see in book covers or Lucifer's box. I didn't even know such cats exist at all. I always thought those advertised cats were graphically made :D

On the evening, they troddle behind their proud owner who makes sure they were properly cleaned and fattenned up. During the weekends, they went to a special training place where they were properly educated and ensuring well-behaved. Vaccination papers and documents were lined up in order for each of them, and you can trace their ancestor up to probably 50 years back. You know, probably their great great grandcat have been the cat of the great-great grandmother of Queen Wilhelmina? How could I not love them when they purred and looked at me like Puss in Boots from Shrek??

You see, it is easy to take care of something trained, clean, and expensive. It's effortless to make friends with cats whose luck and lifestyle might be overly inhumane (yeah. with foods brought up to them and no work needs to be done except being nice to their old lady, what else could you want more??). But it is very difficult to love those cats I had back home, with their infected eyes and smelly fur. What beautiful was, all the nasty digusting things necessary to take care of the cats back home was done with pleasure by my sister. The last time I saw them, they were not as bad as before. They fattened up a bit, most of the wounds have dissappeared, no tickle anymore ( I hope), and their eyes were clean as a clean cat eyes can be. They were nowhere near Holland's cats, but everytime I remember them I was amazed (a little bit) by the magic of bravery and love; those of my sister for accomodating others who were in need.

I wish I was her

She smiles happily in the picture I saw on the digital web. She took one arm of her beloved and hugged it tight in her own. She graduated with a very satisfactionary degree from a top university. She work in a top finance company and earn enough to get her settled with her new family.

She once have had the heart of my dearest. They made the most beautiful memories I can never see. She could just walk accross next door anytime she wish to see him. He once said she was the one he wished to spend the rest of his life with.

Her house was big enough to accomodate 50 people. The door to her house complete with flight tickets are always available upon her requests. Winter and summer holidays with the whole family are written in the annual agendas.

She worships God our Lord as how He want us to do. She never misses one Sunday without praying to Him and thank Him for His grace. She never feels poor nor miserable because she knows God will always be with her.

She posed with mini skirt and cute top and high heels. Her long hair flew around her face and her lips parted in that sweet aquiescence. She was not pretty yet she was radiantly beautiful.

Let the waves of oath befall upon me for my envy and ungratefulness, for I wish I was her.