A strange-looking cat showed up at my parents' place in the country about a year ago. They thought it was wild until it came up and rubbed against their legs. He could leap up on the roof or a treetop in a single bound. He looked hungry, so Mom kept putting food out. He would eat and eat and eat and never gain an ounce.
Soon the mystery was solved. He was a Bengal Cat, bred to look like a Leopard. He's beautiful, with burnt orange fur and black spots. He's affectionate. He looks hungry because these cats are longer and leaner than a normal house cat.
Mom was afraid he was someone's pet. So she got him to the vet's (there is only one vet in their town) to see if anyone was missing such a special animal. No, said the vet, but let's see if he has a microchip. No chip, so he became a member of the family and got a name: Tigger.
Mom and I are allergic to most cats, but not to Tigger. He's earning his keep by killing plenty of rodents. The Schnauzer, Muffin, Does Not Like Tigger. She was having a hysterical barking fit at him, and Tigger just went up and rubbed against her. Muffin became barkless. Isn't that a great lesson for us all? When our mere presence incites wrath, we can just go offer love.
May blessings like Tigger wander into your life unexpectedly and bring you love and affection.
