Monday, August 22, 2011
Cain and Abel
And it came to pass, when they were in the field, that Cain rose up against Abel his brother, and slew him.
Adam and Eve suffered a double grief that day in the death of one son and the horror of living with the knowledge that their other son was responsible. It makes life so much easier when we can view as an enemy the one responsible for the negative events in our lives. There are a few people that have impacted my family in very terrible ways, and while I work to forgive them, they live in a very convenient box in my mind. They are "not nice people," and I keep them at a nice comfy distance (sometimes half a continent!) It's the ones we think are safe that have the most power to hurt us.
This morning was the first day of school and I got up early to make pancakes for Laura. I always give the first pancake to the dogs because it's the test pancake, and that's how it's done. I tossed it out in the entryway for Finley and went back to my cooking. A moment later there was a small scuffle as Finley shooed one of the animals away from his food, but nothing alarming. Nothing that hasn't happened a thousand times before; I didn't even turn around.
A short time later Laura walked out of her room and screamed. Theodoreable was lying dead on the floor of the entryway surrounded by a puddle of blood. I went into "Mommy mode" and shooed her back into her room until I could get his body wrapped up and the blood cleaned off the floor. There were no external wounds, and I'd never even heard a single mew during the scuffle, so Finley didn't savage him. My best guess is that Finley had snapped at him and bitten where his leg was missing; there's no protection there for his internal organs. Then he'd simply lain on the floor and bled out while I cooked breakfast only a few feet away.
It would have been easier if I could have raged at the one that did this, or shrug my shoulders in fatalistic resignation if some predator had killed him. But Finley is my baby, and I love him completely and totally. He's seven years old and has never shown aggression to any cats, except normal protectiveness about his food. It was a tragic accident, and Finley knew that there was something very wrong. (He didn't even beg when I ate my breakfast later, that's how upset he was!)
It's a very sad thing, but even though it was horrible and tragic, I'm grateful that God's here to go through it with me. A part of me wishes I could have been there when he died, but I think it would have been dreadful to watch him slip away and be able to do nothing. I know he didn't suffer, and I just trust that there were angels with him to pet his head while he died.