This is a high-stakes day for our citizenry.
Emotions are running high across the realm.
Of course, I am talking about the sovereign nation of Tabby’s Place.
It’s Super Tuesday, kittens. and strange specimens are harshing our mellow.
No, no, not those strange specimens. (OK, yes, them too, but not foremost.)
I mean the true statesmen of our time, the noble souls we’d trust to run the free world: I mean Chester and Oscar.
They don’t insult each other rapid-fire.
They don’t yell about
the economy all the things and stuff that fall under the headings of “stuff” and/or “things.”
They are not the color of Cheez-Its.
And they don’t need your votes…but they do need your prayers.
Let’s start with the blissfully bilingual Chester, he of the clearly-enunciated “I love you” and the Felix–soothing sweetness. This angelic oldster could charm the shell off a jelly bean. He could win bipartisan support. He could be an excellent choice for our next Supreme Court justice.
He just can’t seem to kick his cancer.
We’ve known since shortly after his arrival that Chester was carrying a barbarous burden. The tumor on his side was aggressive, and mean, and likely to recur even after Dr. C carefully removed it. We knew all this.
We just didn’t fathom that it would be back this soon. Yet it’s reelected itself, and it’s looking to run the table.
We didn’t vote for this, but we’ll grapple with it as best we can. In the immediate forecast, that means a well-tolerated form of chemo that Chester can receive right here at Tabby’s Place. Chester’s oncologist is honest enough to say she’s not sure what that will buy him in terms of time.
We’ll be doing everything in our power to keep Chester’s world sweet and serene. And we’ve learned — over and over and over again — that life often wins where diagnoses falter. The votes are not all yet in, and we’ll hang by a chad in the in-between with Chester.
Weeks? Months? Years? We don’t know. We will love. Please pray and love with us.
Then there’s Oscar, our serious-faced senior. This award-winner is old, awesome, and sweet in that shy, take-your-time, handle-with-care way we love so much. Despite his advanced age, he’s generally healthy.
Until this morning. Suddenly the spotlight is on our Oscar.
After breakfast, our gentle boy collapsed. Denise got him back on his wondrous white feet and found that Oscar was severely anemic. Although he was stable, an immediate visit to Dr. Fantastic was in order.
As of this post, we’re still not sure what’s going on, but our boy is slated for a blood transfusion and a world-class work-up. (Thickening the mystery: Oscar just had a world-class work-up for his snorkely nose, and the docs didn’t find anything ferocious…but we’ll work him up until we’ve worked this out.)
So that’s two eminently electable individuals in need of your prayers today, amici. Would you please join us in praying for our Chester and Oscar?
And, while you’re at it, I recommend praying for those other wacky statesfolks in the news today. All of them. Even the one(s) who scare you.
Especially the one(s) who scare you.
A wise friend of mine gave me this advice, and it’s true: it’s hard to detest someone you’re praying for. They may be scary or wrongheaded or the color of Cheez-Its…but they are children of God, no less than the trees and stars and Oscar and Chester and you and me.
So let’s pray and love this world and these cats with all our strength. We’re in this together.