Thanks A Lot, Barnabus.

January 12, 2015

Barnabus, our black cat, thinks of himself as a Black Panther Ninja, prowling from one place to another before leaping to impossible heights to protect himself and our family from nefarious would-be assassins such as (a) anything on the mantle (b) anything else on the mantle that he didn’t get the first time (c) my favorite red Santa statue.

He broke that favorite Santa statue of mine this Christmas season, and clearly he lacks the mental capacity to appreciate that I did not shoot him for that since he just went on the attack a couple of days ago and broke one of the brand-new pots with a brand-new darling little plant grouping that I put in the laundry room.

Seriously?!  We were in that level of danger from a few varieties of sedum?

Thanks a lot, Barnabus.

This is how the crime scene looked when I saw it.  The other two plants on the ledge survived the attack, but this one took a serious hit.  It had been doing its part to beautify the laundry room for only about 48 hours.  Sad to be so brutally beaten after just a couple of days on the job.

Have I mentioned how fortunate Barnabus is that I didn’t shoot him?


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When I looked at everything – stopping, of course, to photograph the evidence that will be offered in my favor if I ever do shoot him and have to stand trial – I realized something rather remarkable:  Barnabus broke the pot, yes, but he didn’t break what was inside.


The plants that are grouped together that had been in a beautiful pot and had been set out to look just so …

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… remained intact in spite of the hit, in spite of what shattered the outside.  Why?  Because what was inside the pot was knitted together so beautifully by roots that ran deep and strong.  It didn’t matter what happened to the vessel, the pot, the bucket in which the plant arrangement was placed; what mattered was what was inside:  the soil in which the plants were planted, the water that had given life, the time the roots had been given to grow and weave together.

The questions for us then are:  what are we putting in our itty bitty buckets, also known as our lives, our souls, our hearts, our minds, our bodies – in short, the sum total of us as individuals?  When something from the outside that is beyond our control forces us to the ground – maybe even shoves us to the ground – will we shatter through and through, or will our core remain intact?

According to the unintentional lesson from our Black Panther Ninja, I guess it all depends on what we put on the inside.

Thanks a lot, Barnabus.



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