A great big dog and his owner arrive at our front door yesterday. This neighbor has stopped by to visit on the front porch, but while fumbling with his gloves, he lets the leash loose. The enormous dog squeezes past the screen door and rockets into the house.
Our cat, Louie, sits in the foyer, minding his own business. He's licking a paw; he's yawning.
And then, in a blur of fur and teeth, the dog nearly devours my cat.
Louie barely escapes. He then exits the scene in what I think is a cowardly retreat. But no! That cat has hidden himself from view momentarily. While hiding, the cat puffs out his fur in a magnificent display and returns to fight.
Huge canine beast verses tiny (but now very fluffy) kitty. There's no chance, folks.
But Louie knows he can dominate by speed, sharp claws, and clever maneuvering. Size does not matter when you know what you bring to the fight.
We intervene and stop the brawl. But all night, I'm laughing about Louie's bravery. I'm chuckling about how he hid away, like Clark Kent in a telephone booth, to make his Superman transformation of fluffed-up fur that wasn't even impressive. Did he not realize how out-sized he was? Did he not think of the danger?
It's ridiculous to take on such a monstrous dog. But in kitty logic, size rarely matters. Besides, Louie knew that my husband had his back. And this was his turf. No dogs allowed.
That cat has flair. His confidence, despite his size, amazes me. Might I enter my mental and spiritual battles with the same fervor? The enemy looms large, but I know what I bring to the fight. I know who has my back. Kitty logic might just save the day.