Not A Matter of Talk

November 23, 2013

By Amy Hartmann

 

“For I have no one else of kindred spirit who will genuinely be concerned for your welfare.”[1]

Planted within the heart of every person lies the heart cry to be understood and respected by friends and peers.  However, within the very core of this desire resides a cellular cry for like-mindedness.  The power and force of unity plays out in every field of work and enterprise.  The nature of sports carries this same root concept.  Teams win or lose based upon the chemistry and connectedness of the individual players and their willingness to be united at this complex level of the soul.

The Greeks understood this in their culture and language.  Strong’s Concordance has this to say about isopsuchon, the Greek word the apostle Paul used in this expression of his heart:  G#2473 isopsuchos – (ee-sop’-soo-khos); of similar spirit, ‘equal-souled’; equally sensitive; likeminded.[2]

As I studied out this concept, I came across a great article in a blog by David Rogol.  He offers this compelling thought:

“Do you have a kindred spirit? Someone with whom you can share anything under the sun? Someone who thinks like you, believes like you, has the same attitudes and feelings as you? Someone who can finish your sentences and complete your thoughts? If you do then you are truly blessed in this life. If not, then perhaps you should ask God for a kindred spirit…”[3]

I have learned that kindred spirits come in all shapes and sizes.  I have likeminded friends in all age groups, and when I find a true kindred heart, it is my desire to cultivate and highly value their company and their time.  Sometimes God sends us animal friends who become kindred spirits.

I have always been an animal lover.  Cats, in their independent and often disdainful way, have been some of the most interesting creatures I’ve befriended.  In 2000, my 13 year old feline friend named Mouse, had to be put down because of illness.  I was grieving but I learned long ago the best antidote for such pain is to find a new pet.  When my husband first proposed in 1992, I made the following prenuptial declarations:  first and foremost, I am not a morning person; secondly, I don’t iron; and finally, I have cats.

By 2000, I had one busy husband and 3 energetic children – ages 2, 5 and 7.  Life was hectic and I knew the dangers of adding one more demand to my list of responsibilities.  Puppies and kittens are cute but they can also be very disruptive.  I did not feel like tackling such a project.  Shortly after Mouse’s demise, some choir friends of mine came to me and made the generous offer to give me their two cats.  My friend, Jill was 8 months pregnant with her second child.  Her life was complicated and demanding too.   Lily and Chaz, she said, were 2 year old cats from the same litter.  They both spent much time in the laundry room when the family was not at home.  Neither cat was very fond of the other and they both had been declawed.

The ages of the cats were acceptable to me, but I let Jill’s husband, Kurt know he had to get this cleared through my husband.  Kurt, not being a cat person himself, was perfectly willing to sell this idea with great enthusiasm.  Once permission was received, Kurt made a quick trip to our house bearing a not very happy pair of cats.  Jill was comforted to see Lily and Chaz go to such a good home.  They were her cats, after all, and she was less eager to part with their company than her cat hating husband.

It was March of 2000 when this exchange took place and I welcomed the cat siblings with much tenderness and attention.  My kids were quite happy to have these new friends to chase around the house.  Soon Lily befriended my 2 year old daughter and Chaz settled his affections upon me.  Our friendship grew as Chaz fully accepted us as his new family.  Soon his desire to roam outdoors overwhelmed our ability to keep him inside.  With the kids running outside to play, eventually Chaz found his freedom and he was one happy cat.  His lack of front claws did not slow him down as he chased away any neighbor cat taking liberty in our yard.  As he matured, his size and weight increased.  By 2004, at 18 pounds, he was massive.  His size made him more like a small bobcat than a house cat.

His love of freedom took him through the entire neighborhood.  All we could do was make sure he had his collar and tags.  At some point in early May of 2004, Chaz offended neighbors across the street from us.  I was not aware of this situation.  Chaz disappeared and we did not see him; nor could we find him any where in the neighborhood.   Throughout this time, the kids and I prayed intently for his safety and his return.  May 23^rd , 2004 I was drying my hair and lost in thought about my missing friend.  Suddenly, I heard this message in my heart:     “Chaz is at the pound.  Your neighbors captured him and had him taken away.”

At that same moment, in my mind I saw a black cage and I knew we had to hurry to rescue him.  I finished getting ready and then ran out to get the kids.  I told them about the message from God – the word of knowledge – the revelation I had just received.  That afternoon we went to the Humane Society, expecting to find our prisoner.  We searched in all of the cages, but Chaz was no where to be found.  I talked with an attendant and they explained that a trapped cat was probably at the pound, on the other side of Jacksonville.  The pound would be open until 6:00 pm.

I hurriedly looked at a map.  The pound was almost an hour away and we were in rush hour traffic.  Fearful for Chaz’ safety, we made the long drive to the Jacksonville Animal Control shelter and quickly hurried inside.  I had Chaz’ big dog collar and tags in my hand, since these had been found outside in our yard when he disappeared.

My oldest son found Chaz first.  “Mom, here he is,” Lorren called out.  I went to the cage but I didn’t recognize the cat at first.  His head was badly wounded from bagging his head against the trap.  He was very sick.  According to Animal Control records, he had been with them over three weeks and he was scheduled to go to the ‘chamber’ within a few days if not rescued.  I called out his name and his loud cry of response broke my heart.  My friend was so glad to see me.

As I was paying his fine and securing his freedom, the lady processing our papers saw his big collar and tags and she warned me about our not so friendly neighbor who had the cat trapped as a stray.  My heart fell as I thought about how close Chaz had come to sure death.  On the way home, we stopped at the vet to have him treated and checked over for the source of his sickness.  Our vet said he had a kennel virus that usually proved fatal.  Cats lost their ability to smell and their desire to eat.  Chaz was down to 14 pounds and his fever was high.  The vet said if I could get the cat to eat, then it stood a chance of surviving.

Several weeks passed as I syringe fed Chaz every bit of liquid I could get into his mouth.  One evening I roasted a chicken in the oven and used olive oil for the basting.  Chaz came into the kitchen when I pulled the food out of the oven.  He meowed and seemed interested in the smell for the first time since his rescue.  By this time, his weight was down to 12 pounds and he looked terrible.  Once dinner was over, I took the roasting juices left in the bottom of the roasting pan and mixed them with some mashed potatoes.    I fed this to Chaz.  I could hear his stomach growling as the liquid made it down his throat.  Happily he began to purr.

Later that evening, he had a new level of energy as he joined me on the couch once the kids were all in bed asleep.  I fed him again with this liquid over the next few days and soon he began to recover his appetite.  By mid June, he was eating again and regaining some weight.  All my hands-on-care had further deepened his attachment to me.  As soon as he came in from being outside, he would begin to call for me.  The kids would laugh and say, “Chaz loves his mommy.”

  This past February, 2013, Chaz started having trouble eating.  By now he and his sister were 15.  Our family had been through so much transition with our move from Jacksonville in 2011 and then the unexpected departure of my husband in September of 2012.  The kids and I were in a state of shock and hurt over the marriage breakdown.  We were also in the fog of trauma.  We were all going through the motions of living, but grief and hurt kept us all trapped in our own emotional cages.

  We prayed continually for Chaz’ recovery.  I offered him all sorts of food changes to try and get him to eat.  Slowly he got thinner and sicker.  There were no funds to take him to the vet.  I knew if he had a terminal condition the vet would just say to put him down.  All I could do was pray.

March 5^th, it began to snow heavily and I could tell Chaz was finally beginning to languish drastically.  I made a bed for him in my bedroom on a shirt of mine he favored.  I could hear him through the night as he struggled.  I spent much time with him, holding him and talking to him.  He made it through the night but finally died about noon.  His last bit of strength he used to climb into my lap one more time.  I told him what a special friend he had been to me and how much I loved him.  It was then I began to weep.

Suddenly we all were weeping as the kids joined me at his bed.  Our thoughts and conversation went back to that day in May of 2004, when God spared Chaz.  Our tears seemed to open up a new level of healing.  As we wept and grieved together, something changed.  The next day, I went outside in the snow and cleared a spot under my bedroom window.  As I dug away the snow and the dirt, I realized that Chaz’ passing was part of the plan too.  We needed him in death as much as he needed us in life.  We needed something greater than the pain of the past to push us out of the emotional trap that settled down upon us.

I journal in most of the margins of my Bible.  My life is written among the pages.  Philippians 4 carries my note of the goodness of God to rescue Chaz on May 23, 2004.

“It was good of you to share in my troubles…not that I speak from want, for I have learned to be content whatever circumstances.  I know what it is to be in need and I know what it is to have plenty.  I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry.  I can do all things through Him who gives me strength...and my God will meet all your needs according to His glorious riches in Christ Jesus.  To our God and Father be glory forever and ever. Amen.”[4]