Fearing people is a dangerous trap,
but trusting the Lord means safety. – Proverbs 29:25
For starters, Rex believes the vacuum, refrigerator and dishwasher are all part of an appliance cult. They’ve taken a blood oath to scare the bejesus out of him. He runs away and/or hides whenever they get too loud.
Ditto with the crinkling of plastic bags and string cheese wrappers. Pulling out the chairs at the dining room table. Also doors closing and opening, unless he’s on the other side wanting in or out. He detests getting trapped in a closet or the basement, yet ventures to both places often. He doesn’t like the printer. Dr. Isham. He cringes at the sound of the ringing phone, ears bent back in peeve. He hates small children with their tiny, sticky hands and unsteady steps. They tend to chase him with cries of “Nice kitty!” He tolerates the shuddering washer and thumping dryer on a reoccurring basis, but only because they’re parked in his food area.
When we pull into the driveway, Rex gallops into the carport, lickety-split. His golden eyes glow at us as he crouches next to the garbage cans. Even after living with us for about 7 years, he still thinks we’ll run over him. Or at least Pepper-car will.
The list of what Rex *isn’t* afraid of is much shorter. The can opener, because, well, there could be an empty tuna can for him to lick clean. Sunshine. Flames from the gas fireplace. He’ll plop down right in front of the fireplace screen, soaking it in. Warmth is Rex’s middle name. Fleece. Blankets. Fleece blankets create Rex nirvana. Ahhh…
I tell you all this because Rex misses out.
Chloe, on the other hand, enjoys it all. She sleeps whenever and wherever. When my husband started working from home again, she staked out the warmest spot in the house. It’s in the same room as Dr. Isham, on the spare bed. Chloe trembles at very little. Maybe big dogs? She purrs beaucoup. For this very reason, she gets more leftover cereal milk, dripping ice cream, physical affection and probably small game.
His fears, even though he’s just a cat, keep Rex from enjoying the rest of life. His numerous phobias have become a snare to him, knotted him up inside. They hold him back from some of life’s best things, like real cheese. Something to think about, even if the appliances are in cahoots.