Maybe I was channeling my inner St. Francis of Assisi. Maybe I am a silly almost 62 year old hobbit. Maybe I was listening to my heart. Or maybe, I was just being me. Maybe it really doesn’t matter why. A nine year old cat named Whiskers, through a very odd and circuitous route has found her home in my little hobbit house. She’s joined my little dog and me. She was surrendered to the shelter because she was not doing well. Her home was full of children, dogs and other cats who would not let this grand elder lady be. I had thought of getting a cat. I wanted an older one since they have less potential for adoption. I had wanted a cat but confess I feared what would happen to my feathers and other treasures from nature. I guess you could say I was selfish.

I’m thinking she alone, and she combined with my dog, will have a lot to teach me. For starters, simply letting her have her space without disruption. Second, that a heart can hold more than one equally. Third, releasing attachment to my very settled way of life and routine. Fourth, realizing that if a feather here and there is disturbed or harmed, that’s ok… the gift of grace cannot be touched. Finally, it matters not how long the life remains, grace will hold each day.

Whiskers may slowly transition to Whispers as a name. I think that would be fitting. So welcome home Whiskered Whispers. Love’s school bell is already ringing.

“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.” ~ Rumi