Life Is Like A Vet's Office

Okay...so you may be wondering about the title. Let me explain.

Yesterday, I had to take my oldest cat to the vet and she, obviously, was scared and nervous. She howled all the way to the way to the vet's. (Now I know why God hasn't given me kids. I laughed at her all the way, imitating her howl. *Slaps hand* Bad cat mommy. BAD cat mommy.)

Once we arrived, her howling brought the office cat over the counter and into the cat's only waiting area. (I have an awesome vet who separates cats and dogs. Different entrances and exits. Makes it less stressful for the cats and, I assume, the dogs.) I held my cat, Aurora, on my lap, refusing to let her down because if I had, the other cat would have more than likely attacked her.

Since my cats are strictly indoor cats, I had them declawed in the front paws only. Which, in a very selfish way, is easier since I'm their favorite scratching post.

The office cat is an indoor/outdoor cat, so he obviously had claws. I wanted nothing more than to protect my Queen Aurora. She's 13 years old and she is most definately my cat. I knew that she wanted to get down and explore the room and was not understanding (since I'm not fluent in cat and didn't know how to properly tell her) why I wasn't letting her down. I kept telling her that I didn't want her to get hurt. Neither one of us knew that cat and I was sure that he'd attack my precious baby.

Aurora squirmed and howled and tried to get off my lap. After literally three minutes (the front office lady was busy for a minute), the receptionist took the office cat back into the front office cubicle, allowing me to let my Queen to explore the waiting room. I watched her carefully, making sure that she was not going to get hurt or stuck where she shouldn't be, telling her not to go here or there, her howling in protest.

In the exam room, Aurora continued to howl and explore. Again, I watched carefully to make sure she wouldn't get hurt, but giving her the freedom to explore.

I picked her up, allowing the vet tech to take her temperature and weight. She lay down on the table, quiet and still in my arms. Her ears were perked and her eyes wide as she tried to make sense of the noises and sights. Her little pink nose sniffed smells I couldn't detect. Every once in a while, she'd look up to me and quietly meow. She would butt her head against my chin, as though she wanted to make sure I was still there.

I hushed her, reminding her that I was there and that as long as my arms were around her, she was safe. That answer satisfied her. She was still and quiet in my arms, though she was aware of her surroundings.

Softly and quietly, I heard a voice tell me "As long as you're in My Arms, you're safe. I will protect you from that which you are afraid of as long as you stay in My Arms."

I looked down at my cat and realized that my Christian walk was like a trip to the vet's office. I'm scared, howling all the way to where God is taking me and once we get there, I want to explore, but God, knowing what's best, won't let me off His Lap because there is another "cat" that will attack me. Even though I don't understand why God won't let me down and I squirm and howl, but He holds me tightly, trying to explain that if I were to be let down, this other "cat" would attack me and no one attacks His precious child. Once that "cat" is gone, He lets me down and lets me explore under His protective and loving eye.

And as we wait for the "vet", once again, under God's loving and protective eye, He lets me explore, reprimanding me if I was about to go somewhere I didn't belong. As He picks me up and places me on the table for my "exam", He constantly reminds me that as long as I'm in His Arms, I was safe. I look up every so often to make sure God's still there and, much like Aurora, am relieved to see that He is.

Yes. As odd as it is, life really is like a trip to the vet's office.