There’s a lie that’s been going around since the dawn of time.
It goes something like this: “there is no reason for you.”
“You are aimless, casting about, running down the clock until the bell tolls for you. The great ones have callings and missions and quests. You’re one of the other ones. Keep your head down and find some busy work. No grand work is calling.”
This lie is especially alluring to those with quiet lives. If, instead of fighting wildfires or pulling orphans out of Yemen, you’re cleaning up the fourth spit-up of the day or mucking through spreadsheets, beware the ever-creeping lie that it’s all meaningless mush.
But this lie isn’t limited to our species. Cats can seem to have or lack callings, too. Such a great one as Boom was clearly born to bring bountiful joy to all he meets. Such a great one as Jonathan is, beyond doubt, an anointed comforter.
But such a surly, silent, slinking-in-the-shadows one as Doodle? Is he just taking up space and light from the great Doers?
Ah, but you know better, kittens.
From the hour of his arrival, Doodle has been deeply distrustful of humankind. With rare and shining exceptions (I’m looking at you, heroic volunteers), humanbeans should not expect to pet Doodle without deep gashes. Our love for him flows, and so does our blood if we get too close.
Is he feral? Semi-feral? Struggling to integrate his childhood trauma into a secure adult attachment style?
More importantly: what was Doodle put here to do?
If there’s one thing The Dood has done consistently, it’s been to love cats. If you’re in possession of approximately four legs, whiskers and a tail, Doodle is hopelessly devoted to you, no questions asked.
He will hug you. He will snuggle you. He will shepherd you through any sort of strangeness you may endure upon arrival in Suite B. He will be your Best Friend Forever, and his best friendship is undiminished for being shared. Doodle loves every cat as though she were the only cat in the world, and the more cats he loves, the more his love for each one grows.
It’s a beautiful thing to behold.
It makes us humanbeans a little jealous.
Clearly this is a calling of the highest order, quiet and noble with no need to shout. But it seems Doodle had even greater feats of self-sacrifice up his striped sleeve.
Just a room over from Suite B, FIV+ Chachi has been battling some big medical matters. Chach is deserving of his own post, so for now we’ll just say he’s Going Through Some Stuff. Late last week, aforementioned Stuff left Chachi in need of a blood transfusion.
Cats don’t exactly line up to donate blood (Oreos and orange juice aren’t their thing), so it’s up to us to choose appropriate donors. The qualifications are generally simple: you must be an adult under around 8 years of age; weigh more than ten pounds; and enjoy generally robust health.
“Undying devotion to other cats” is not a standard requirement.
But in Doodle’s case, it came with the calling.
And so the cat who was placed on this earth to cherish other cats came to the rescue. Today, Doodle’s good, strong blood runs rich in Chachi’s veins, and the fragile cat can flourish thanks to his next-door neighbor.
It’s all in a Doodle’s work — his anointed, appointed, high-calling work.
Never underestimate your callings, kittens. Something great of The Dood abides in each of you.