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More or Less Church

Joanna Depue "DJ/Deacon J" writes original songs and liturgies, does daily Farm office work and records Barbara's eMos on The Geranium Farm. A singer and dog trainer she utilizes healing touch in her private massage practice. PLEASE share YOUR original ideas for worship, special liturgies, prayers, songs, sermons and noteworthy blogs right here.
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Wednesday, May 30, 2007

I have been "Benned"

I sit at Barbara's computer this morning.... and what should my wandering eyes should appear but.....BEN. THE Ben. Sitting at this desk in front of this keyboard must mean it is time to socialize.... this despite the fact that Emmy Lou is in the bedroom down the hall probably snoozing and waiting for me to get at least a few hours of sleep.

He came deliberately through the office door, slightly ajar making his by now famous quacking meows.

Excuse me, but I'm here.
Of that I am aware, kind tuxedo-ed sir... but I wanted to get something posted this morning.
What part of this do you not understand... alright, I will oblige you by rubbing against the desk repeatedly, then the chair, then your legs... haven't I groveled enough yet? I need a lap..... now.
OK... but I really want to get something down, something inspiring, something about the beautiful flowers in the front and along the driveway - yes.... especially one bright orange/red poppy
Oh, puh-leeese! Lap! I need lap and extravagant scratching under the chin!!!

Ben appears to be unaware of the notion of NO. He hops up and tries to settle in for the petting session to which he has become accustomed... but my chunky short piano legs, folded during the sitting position, do not afford Ben the lap to which he has also become accustomed. He starts slide down and I try to move closer to the desk so that he avoids a mishap. He slips stealthily under my right arm onto the top of the desk, nudging my right elbow with his cold nose.

It isn't working, but not for his lack of trying. He paces back and forth between the keyboard and the monitor, making me bob and weave to make certain the spelling is within a reasonable range.

Look. I can't feed you - I don't know what or how much to feed you. You didn't do this last night.... I'm sorry.

As I type he is still squawking, stretched up to my left elbow which is being nuzzled from both sides. Hopping up on the desk he sits to my right and then walks across the top keys, as if writing a comic strip version of a very long, expressive curse of one form or another.

You win, Ben. I will pet you for a while and then go to bed.... and then get the sniff test from Emmy for the next 45minutes.

If I were to add a postscript here, it would be that I have been humbled.... by a cat no less. My lofty goals were of my own devising and God - through Ben - told me to get off my high horse and do what matters.... Love the cat, love the dog, love your neighbor, love yourself. Not bad material to think about after all, eh?


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