Meet my cat, Jack Johnson

This is the first blog. I have thought about it for weeks. What would I say? Would it be clever? Would it be deep? Would it be funny? Seriously, I’ve pondered this for a while. Starting a blog is a lot of pressure. There are far more brilliant folks out there to compete with. Who’ll read my ramblings? Will I offer anything to anyone on here? Wow…I’m overwhelmed to say the least! The first blog should be epic, no?

Well. Sorry. I don’t give a crap about being epic or clever. Those blogs will come. Today, I give you a taste of the joy that is a kitten. Today, you get to meet Jack Johnson. He’s NOT named for the musician. You see, when Amy (wife) found little Jack he was the littlest of the little. He was the kitten that was too small to push his way to the bowl of food at the pound. He was the kitten who was too small to jump up and play with the others. He was the cat that was overlooked. Amy saw him. I smelled him. Seriously, he smelled like the worst funk of all time…sort of a tuna smell mixed with feet. It wasn’t pleasant. Regardless of the smell, we had to have him.

We brought him home and his little personality started developing. He was a FIGHTER! He flailed his arms around like a little boxer. I thought of the line in Anchorman where Ron Burgundy confronts the angry biker after throwing his garbage out the window…”If you want to throw down fisticuffs, fine. I’ve got Jack Johnson and Tom O’Leary ready for ya.” I thought Jack would be the perfect name. I was right, that fighting instinct remains strong in him. He boxes our older, fatter cat Phoebe around all day long. It’s quite cute!

I wanted to write about Jack because, frankly, he’s an awesome pet! We rescued him from certain death. He was the smallest of the small, the weakest of the weak, the smelliest of the smelly…he was in bad shape. Kinda like us. We’re the ones left out. We stink! Not like tuna…but like the world. We’re full of pride. We are selfish…always trying to gain an advantage for ourselves. We lie. We steal. We cuss. We lust. We STINK! Yet, God had mercy on ME…a sinner. I wasn’t cute like Jack Johnson. I was pretty ugly. Still, God chose me to be his own just like we chose that little kitten…except, we’re not God’s pets. In fact, Romans 8:17 calls us “heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ”. Kind cool, eh?

I didn’t think this blog would be that deep when I started. I just thought I’d tell you about a kitten Amy and I fell for. He’s a fighter. He plays ALL DAY LONG. He poops when the litter box is freshly cleaned. He stands on my chest at 1am and makes biscuits (it’s really cute). He also gives me a little picture of the way God rescued us from a horrible fate. That’s the kind of God he is. He rescues the downhearted, the broken, the lost, the weakest of the weak, the sinner, the one who has no hope. Read Ephesians 2. We’ve been rescued from death…just like little Jack Johnson. Now, if I can only get him to bury his poop with cat litter. I said he was cute…not smart.