Part Three

A human shot itself in the head right in front of me today.
But before doing so, it picked me up, looked right into my eyes and began to pray:

"Dear God, I've been a terrible father, husband, and son. You know that from all the evil remaining in my heart, I can no longer run."

Then it began to weep.

"I beg your forgiveness for all the bad things I've done. Yet I know you won't excuse what I'm about to do with this gun."

The blood of a human now covers my entire body and face.
How bad a person could it have been to have apparently fallen so completely from grace?

And why did it recite its final prayer to me: a lowly cat, practically feral?
Now reduced to eke out its remaining existence in complete isolation, regret, and eternal peril.

Part Two

Right now, nobody cares about me.
But mama said that if a human could ever sincerely love me (and include me as a member of its family), then God our Creator would allow me to be "set free."

Sure, there are some nice humans living on this street who leave out dry (but not so tasty) food and water for my cat friends and I,

But what I wouldn't give for just one kind person to pet me, talk with me for a short time, and maybe even tear up as it left for the day while waving "goodbye."

Meow meow meow meow
meow meow meow.
I don't care about tomorrow, I want to be loved right now.

Dear God, I'm sorry for the life I'm living: I can't help that I'm wild.
Will you please allow the weight of my animal nature to lessen, and help me to become more mild?

Because from now on I promise to start behaving like the kind of cat who is worthy of receiving a human's smile.