Woody Broke the Bible

23 07 2012
aka: The Big Lug

My Soul Mate

One morning, Woody, our cat of 15 years one day crawled into a bottom bookshelf. I was made aware of this by the faint rumble of noise coming from the living room. I didn’t pay much mind to it. We were used to hearing our cats making playful noises.  It just didn’t seem like a big deal.  It wasn’t until I went to refill a cup of coffee that I noticed my big Woodinsky, our 21 lb pound of a blonde calico cat had managed to squeeze himself into the lowest level of a corner bookshelf in of our living room. Strange, Woody hadn’t done something like this is quite some time.  He was always squeezing himself into tight places, kind of like a size 16 woman trying to squeeze herself into a size 10 bathing suit.  We didn’t know it at the time, but this gesture was our cat’s attempt to disappear and die alone. Days later we took him to the neighborhoods cat doctor, who lovingly suggested we put Woody to sleep.  A bittersweet task that was more bitter then sweet but necessary He was in pain.

We learned he had a cancerous growth that made it difficult for him to move, lay still, eat, or drink.  In short; live.  So off we drove to the vet and said our final good-byes to one of the two cats we brought home 16 years ago. 

Woody was a dog in a cat’s body.  

I knew what to expect when we walked into the vet’s waiting room with Woody. I had witnessed other silent visitors who would bring their furry pawed loved one to give a final good bye then leave with an empty carrying case.

Weeks later, as I was doing some house cleaning, I was tending to a bunch of books that had toppled onto each other. I had forgotten how they got there in the first place.  It wasn’t until I found part of my Bible that I realized the mess was the work of Woody during his final moments.

I stopped my cleaning task. I wanted to leave my disorganized book shelf the way it was. I didn’t want to move evidence of Woody’s last movements.  There was nothing sacrilegious about tidying things up a bit.  I guess I just wanted to keep a part of Woody alive and by my leaving the books alone it was my attempt to keep him alive in my heart.  That was six months ago.  I haven’t found the other part of my Bible.

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Great PR

23 07 2012

The Blood of Christ has been shed for me.  Please.  Don’t do me any favors.  Keep your blood.  Get mankind to take you off the cross.  Live the life you want to live.  Then you can be my inspiration instead of my critic.

I’m a Christian rebel.  I believe in you God but I don’t believe you sacrificed your son for us.  What father in his right mind would? 

You’re my best friend; not a judgmental father to be feared, who will send me directly to hell without passing Go and collecting $200 if I don’t believe in you the way society tells me I should.

What a bunch of crap.

But I must admit this stance is a clever marketing strategy implemented by churches and governments.  It certainly facilitates keeping people in line as well as encouraging us to volunteer to be victims.  It’s just a shame the Crusades had to kill, rape pillage and plunder to make their point.

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