First thing this morning was Judy the cat at the window, crying in her high-pitched meow. I went to the door, opened it, grabbed hold of Miyako, our fearless kitty who isn’t allowed outside so that Judy could run in without Miyako running out. But Judy was too scared. I repeated this process about five times before running out in the
rain to the end of the deck and explaining to Judy, as logically as possible, how a cat just has to get wet sometimes.
Eventually, I tiptoed through the wet grass myself, climbing gingerly through our pile of building supplies here the window where Judy was, determined to simply pick her up and carry her in. But besides fearing rain, Judy fears people. She rain under the deck just as I reached her. Eventually Judy meandered to another door, cried in another window, and got into the house, thanks to Daniel.
While I happen to love the rain, I can understand Judy’s reluctance. It’s hard to run through whatever you fear, even harder to walk through it or pause and sit in it. But to get from the wilds to some comfort, we often have to do just that. Sometimes, there’s even someone to help us if we let them.