Cats vs Humans
Two new cats have shown up at our doorstep. The word has spread. Our home for wayward cats is growing again. I was looking for a good throwing stick to bean the furry dark one when he turned and looked at me. His face had an intelligence to it, that and a certain nobleness. Why couldn't you be ugly, I thought, it would make it so much easier to hate you. So too the furry orange one. They both seem curious about me, a sure sign of intelligence if there ever was one.
They eat here, and hang out with their new buddies circled around the heated cat house I made for the original cat family years ago. The radiant heat seem to suit their delicate cat bodies.
Of course it's costing me money to feed them, that and the electricity used to heat their box. I don't think I'd be as accommodating to a human. Humans always want something more besides the basics. I can't imagine taking in a stray human. he'd have to shower and I know he wouldn't clean the shower to my standards when he was done. He wouldn't toilet brush the toilet regularly like I do. He may have gross eating habits and finding his hair in the sink would completely turn my stomach. If he or she were no more trouble than the cats I'd consider it but I've learned every cat is different. Those differences are amplified 1000 times in humans and each difference begets a different need. Eventually a human would steal from me, it would be easy for him to justify his larceny: I have so much and he has so little, I'd never miss it, whatever "it" is, and the worse rationalization possible, I knew he was a homeless bum when I took him in and therefore I had to know he would steal from me and to not steal from me would be a violation of an unspoken agreement.
To cleanse my soul of the guilt of not doing the Christ-like thing, I'm good to cats. In the final judgement my defense won't stand, but, do you end up in hell for not doing the things you should? If so, we're all in trouble. Gene