This morning our cat Oreo (so named because he is a handsome black-and-white),
and I went through a familiar ritual at the back door.
Oreo had been outside for a while and began meowing because he wanted to come
in. I opened the door and waited, but he did not come in! He stopped and
lowered his head suspiciously, as if I were a deadly enemy. "Come on, Oreo,"
I said impatiently.
He sat down thoughtfully and began to wash his face.
"Oreo," I said, "I give you food, and I supply all your needs. If you do anything
in return, I don't know what it is. Now I'm personally inviting you into my home.
Please come in."
Oreo put one foot across the threshold, then drew it back. He turned to look out
across the yard with some remote, unfathomable expression, and he didn't come in.
"Oreo," I said, "I'm not going to stand here forever. If you don't come in, I'm
going to close this door. This is your last chance!"
I started to slowly close the door. Did he come in? No, he sat there exercising
his free will or something. He'd come in when it suited him and not before. He
figured I'd be patient. So far, he's always been right.
God made cats, He also made people. I wonder how He feels when He stands at the
door and waits...and waits...
I think I know.
By Arthur Gordon