I get the Wal Mart bag full of cat food and prepare to serve the cats their vittles.
Mis Kitty sits quietly waiting for her food and Chester howls as if his death by starvation is imminent if I don’t get that can opened immediately.
If I try to feed Miss Kitty first, he tries to take her food while I’m preparing his.
She swats him, I swat him, and he howls again in the death throes of famine.
Then I feed him…and it’s never enough.
You could turn him loose in the Friskies factory and it wouldn’t be enough.
He will eat until he makes himself sick, because he’s convinced that the next meal may not come.
Despite the fact that he hasn’t missed a meal (or a snack, or a brunch) since he’s been here, he persists in believing the worst.
Chester’s past controls his present, and darkens his future.
Things were bad once, so bad is his perception of reality.
He can’t enjoy the good blessings of today because his expectations are set to bad.
I feel sorry for him, but I also need him to change his outlook.
You see, it’s starting to affect Miss Kitty.
Fear is contagious.
Maybe…Chester knows something she doesn’t.
Maybe…after year after year of faithful provision, I’ll decide that I don’t want to feed her anymore.
Maybe…I’m not who she thinks I was.
Maybe… she should cry too.
If Chester is correct, she should.
I’ll keep feeding them both as long as I’m here.
I don’t plan on going anywhere.
I don’t feed them because it’s my duty.
I feed them because I love them and they are my fur kids.
I’ll even feed them when they think I won’t.
Their choice is to believe me and enjoy life with a good father… or believe the worst and think every meal is their last.
I can feed them, but I can’t believe for them.
Make your own application…