As the mother of a group of five teens and tweens, I can testify to the fact the mind of a twelve year old does not function exactly as it should.  Jon and I often liken it baking a cake. It’s brown on the outside, yet still jiggles in the middle. It’s just got to bake a bit more.

Unfortunately, as much as I might like to think I was personally exempt from unexplainable adolescent behavior, the story I’m sharing today proves quite the opposite. Today I am blogging about:

C, which is for The Cat who Came Back … again and again and again

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As I recall, it all started because I was up reading after my light was supposed to be out. It was well after midnight, but I had finally finished the last chapter. At last I could peacefully go to sleep, knowing everything had worked out in the end.

Just as I closed my eyes, a sudden yowl broke the silence. My heart thumped hard. In a mild panic, I bolted up. “What was that?” I wondered. Seconds later, I heard it again.  “Oh,” I breathed with a sigh of relief. “It’s just the cat.”

Snuggling deep into the covers, I closed my eyes and prepared to drift away. But instead of dreams, several annoying cat screeches filled my head. In a moment or two, the sounds quieted down once again. Fluffing my pillow, I settled in … only to be startled again by the yowling cat.

I don’t know how long I lay there, listening to the cat noises in the dark. It seemed like a short eternity. Finally, out of sheer desperation, I crept out of bed to take a peek out of the window, which happened to be right over my sleeping sister’s head.

Gingerly, I pulled back the curtains. Right there on the window’s ledge, sat our gray tabby, Jezzie. She gave me a long stare, then gave a shrill meow.

“Shoo!” I whispered as loudly as I dared. My words had absolutely no effect. “Jezzie! Go away,” I rasped.  The old cat gave a bored blink, and yowled again.

I looked around. Spying a hairbrush, I picked it up, and gently used it to tap the window. I hoped the sound might cause my pet to jump down from her perch. No such luck. This was one stubborn, and loud, cat. If only I could get her to leave, then it would be quiet enough for me to sleep.

Suddenly, a brilliant idea popped into my brain. Perhaps, if I opened the window, the cat would jump down. If not, then I could gently push her to the ground four feet below.  I felt certain if I could get her off the window ledge, she would walk away.

As you can probably guess, nothing went according to my plan.

Upon opening the window, a blast of cold January air burst into the bedroom. Not expecting such the gust of frosty air, I gasped in surprise. That one second was all it took.  The cat jumped in through the window, landing right on my sleeping sister’s face. Brooke sat up in surprise, her eyes wide.

“SHhhh! It’s just me … and the cat.” I softly said.

“huh?” Brooke was obviously confused.

“It’s okay. Go back to sleep.  I’ll go put Jezzie out. Nothing to worry about.” I patted Brooke’s head.

“Okay,” she mumbled, laying back down and closing her eyes again.

I picked up the cat, who began to purr noisily. “Come on, Jezzie. I’m putting you back where you belong.”  A few seconds later, I walked back in my bedroom, just in time to see the cat jump back through the window. I slapped my forehead with the heel of my hand. “Geez! I am so stupid,” I thought. “How could I forget to close the window first?”

Sighing, I picked up the cat and reached over to push the window back down, but my position was awkward and the cat managed to slip out of my arms, once again landing on Brooke. She rubbed her eyes and leaned up on her forearm.

I gave her a sheepish look.  “I’m sorry, Brooke. I’m just trying to close the window, but I can’t seem to do it while I hold the cat. Maybe you could go put the cat out while I close the window.”

“Okay,” said Brooke in a  sleepy voice. She grabbed up Jezzie and headed down the hall toward the front door. Meanwhile, I turned back to the window and began to push it down. But the window wouldn’t budge. I stood on my tiptoes and pushed down with all the effort I could muster, but nothing happened.  I grunted and moaned with each effort, but the window was simply stuck.

It wasn’t long before the cat hopped back up on the window ledge. She gave me an innocent look, and then proceeded to saucily tiptoe through the window, back onto the bed. My eyes bugged out in disbelief. About that time, Brooke sleepily trudged back into the room, but when she noticed the cat she harumphed, “Jezzie! I just put you out!”

“I guess I wasn’t quick enough at getting this window down, Brooke.  You go on and put the cat back out. This time I’ll get it closed.”

Over and over, Brooke marched the cat down the hall and put her out the front door, while I struggled and strained to close the window. Like a repetitive song, the cat kept coming back … right through the window.

There seemed to be no good solution to our problem.  Unless we could close the window, the cat would not stay outside.  In frustration, I sat down on Brooke’s bed. My arms ached. My brain was too tired to think. I was ready to give up and put the cat in bed with me.

Then I noticed a movement from the doorway.  There stood my father, glaring sternly.

“The window … it’s … um … it’s open, ” I stammered. Nothing like just stating the obvious.

“Yes. I see.”  Something in my father’s voice sent chills down my spine.

“Yeah,” Brooke piped up. “We can’t get it back down.”  She sweetly added, “Can you help us, Daddy?”

My father tramped over. With one swift motion, he closed the window.

“Girls … I don’t even want to know about the cat or the window. All I want right now is for you to GO TO BED.”  With those words, he stalked out of our bedroom.

I turned and looked at Brooke, who was still holding the squirming cat. Sighing, I lifted poor Jezzie from her arms. As I put the cat out of the front door and into the cold night, I whispered, “Whatever you do, Jezzie, I suggest you don’t go making noise outside Dad’s window. He’s not in a good mood right now.”

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I’m sure I could come up with plenty of spiritual applications for this story, but I mostly wrote it just for the enjoyment factor.  (After all, even God thinks laughter is important … per Proverbs 17:22 and Ecclesiastes 3:4.)  If you liked it, perhaps you’ll find this short video entertaining as well.

If you find a spiritual truth in my story, I hope you will share what God showed you. 

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5 thoughts on “C is for …

  1. Sometimes our way of trying to close windows that won’t shut is to ask Dad to do it. Guess it’s a good story for always needing our heavenly Father even when we think we have things under control. Great story! God bless you!

    1. This is very true! I am always thankful for a loving Heavenly Father, who helps me out of my messes … even the ones I’ve created for myself. Thank you for commenting and sharing!

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