Reflections

                From Monday afternoon until Wednesday evening, I pondered possible analogies concerning Tango, me, and God.

                I thought of how much I have conducted my life out of fear.  I mulled over how I hide from God even while he is patiently waiting on me and wooing me with his presence.  I wondered how grieved he feels when his own adopted children keep themselves isolated from his comfort.

                And then came Wednesday evening when I walked into my office and saw Tango perched on the windowsill.  As always, I spoke softly.  When she looked at me without the usual terror in her eyes, I approached slowly.  When I was halfway across the room, she jumped down to the desk and then to the floor. 

                She seemed a little skittish, so I slowly lowered myself to the floor.  And then a lengthy petting session began.  She was desperate for attention, butting up to my hand, rolling over on her back, and climbing up onto my lap.  I stroked her silky, soft fur and she purred.  It was like the good old days at ARF.  Eventually, my joints required I stand again.  I said good night and left the room.

                Today (Thursday) she is up to her old hiding tricks, but maybe in the cool of the evening, she’ll emerge for more fellowship.