This is how things work at the Thunder house:
The doorbell rang. I was eating lunch in my office and I thought about not answering it. I hardly ever do – no one needs to know I work from home. I grabbed my quesadilla and peeked toward the street from the kitchen. No car. Someone going door to door.
The doorbell rang again. Fine. I answered it.
I’m going to stop this story for a minute to say I can’t imagine that door to door evangelism can possibly work. Are there really people sitting at home in the middle of the day, munching on their lunch, and thinking “gee, I could really use a new god right now”? And if there are, would you want them in your church?
I’m sure you realize that last paragraph wasn’t unrelated. It was two ladies who wanted to know if I still had hope for human kind and then they started reading the Bible at me. AT me. And then they wanted to know if I felt uplifted by what they said.
I have no idea what they said.
While they were reading, I was holding my lunch in one hand and noticing that Kitten Thunder was making a break for it. These two cats have never been outside. They don’t rush the door. The one time Obi escaped – I’m convinced he got outside by accident – he got a paddling and ran any time I even looked toward the door for a month. I take keeping them safe and inside very seriously. So don’t even ask me why they were trying to get out.
Maybe THEY were considering a new god?
Anyhow, Oliver was dissuaded by a foot blocking him but Obi was out the door already. I grabbed him by his back skin – it was the only thing I could get – and yanked him back in. He cried, mostly from surprise. The back up Bible reader cried out. “They’re INDOOR cats,” I said and slammed the screen door. I then politely explained that I was on my lunch hour and didn’t have time to explore my relationship with God with them. They said okay and they’ll consider stopping by later.
I won’t be answering the door.
Once they were gone, I apologized to Obi. He was good once he found out he wasn’t in trouble anymore. We hugged. I gave him some ear kisses. He went off to nap.
Oliver, though, is full of remorse for his brother getting in trouble. Oliver, my little grey ball of stress, has been laying on my lap since the incident. Actually, an arm and my lap; this makes it hard to work. He’s been purring with all his might to get me happy again. He just left. Probably to toss his tuna somewhere because the drama has given him a tummy ache.
So now I have guilt from both cats. And typing this story out has renewed the guilt from spanking my cat two years ago. I need to go find the grey kitten for some purr therapy.
Obi just stretched and rolled over. Nap.
I loved this post! I am also adamant about having my cat stay in the house at all times.
Thanks! I just don’t know what I’d do if one of the fuzzies was hurt while they were outside. We’d have to move, for one thing, because I couldn’t drive by where it happened if something happened.
I know, eh?! It’s too much of a risk for me. On another note, I nominated you for a couple of awards. You can find them here: http://fostrickson.wordpress.com/2012/06/10/awards-one-lovely-blog-very-inspiring-blogger-sunshine-award/
Ah, the guilt spiral. I know it well. I hope the purr therapy worked.
I have a rule that no sales person or evangelist who rings my doorbell ever gets to feel like they’ve accomplished anything. They don’t get to give me their sales pitch or read me any Bible verses. I won’t accept any literature. I won’t tell them my name. The only exception is Girl Scouts. Any time a Girl Scout knocks on my door, I buy a box of Thin Mints from her.
I’m generally pretty nice to sales people because it’s a job and everyone needs a job. Though I like to find out if they’re hourly or on a commission so I don’t waste their time. But these people were volunteering to waste MY time.