My uncle lives above a shoplot that is more than a hundred years old. To keep the mice at bay, he kept a good mouser called Phoebe. It is a dainty white short tail cat. To her credit, she loves to kill cockroaches and mice. But do not expect her to eat any of her victims. Each morning she places her trophies in the pathway of her human attendants. Then she walks triumphantly to the kitchen, expecting to be rewarded by a meal of steamed fresh fish and rice.
One day at dusk, my uncle walked from the well lit part of the shop front to the back portion. He was in a hurry to pick up something for a customer. His cat ran to him, hissed and ran to the side. When he ignored Phoebe, the car snarled at him and continued to impede him from moving to the back portion. My uncle stopped in his track and switched on the over head light. He was shocked when he saw a phython in an attack position not more than ten feet from where he was standing. Immediately he shouted to his daughter upstairs to call the fire and rescue services. Then he backed promptly to the shop front to wait for reinforcement.
Ever since that day, my uncle, who is normally close fisted and budget conscious, has not complained about any treats bought for Phoebe. Neither does he bat his eyes at the bills from the vet. The blessed cat is no longer a pet, but becomes a highly valued member of the household - his angel.
- For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways. -
Turkish Van Cat.jpg from commons.wikimedia.org
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