Annie Mae Deaton

 Annie Mae Deaton is a spoiled cat. She came to us two years ago as a stray, teenage mama cat who was barely surviving. For some reason, she chose us, and our lives have not been the same since!

 

When she was a starving mom, Annie would eat anything placed in front of her. We fed her wet food and dry food and plates of turkey. Now, as a spoiled house cat who has full reign of the house, she eats only dry food and one piece of turkey a day—IF I hand-feed it to her! If dad tries to feed her turkey, she will not eat it. If I place the turkey on her food mat or accidentally drop a piece on the floor, then she won’t eat it. She will only eat it out of my hand. If I’m running late in the morning, oh, well! Annie must get her turkey :-).

 

While some cats have one favorite place to sleep, Annie can be found sleeping in numerous places around the house. In fact, she has at least one spot in every room where she likes to sleep— and it’s usually near the air conditioning vent :-).

 

On Friday night, as Heidi-My-Tin-Art-Partner and I were working in the studio, I stood up for one brief moment to get a different perspective on my piece. In that one moment, Annie hopped into my office chair and put herself to sleep for 45 minutes. I worked standing up 🤦🏻‍♀️. I know. I could have bravely moved her and sat back down, but I just didn’t have it in me because she looked so content.

 

I wish that I could say that Annie is a loving and snuggly cat, but I can’t. Her life on the streets left her very skittish. She is also a tortie, and I’ve heard that torties have tortitude :-). But when she wants to, she lets us pet her. And she likes it. Then, when she’s tired of being touched, she turns around and whacks the hand that loves her. And, don’t even think about trying to pet her pretty, fluffy belly. That is a no go!

 

…

 

I won’t let Annie go into the attic because she heads straight for the insulation and all the little crevices where she could get stuck. One night a few weeks ago, Heidi went into the attic to get some tin. Annie came out of nowhere and planted herself at the attic door. Heidi could not get out without Annie going in, and so I told Heidi to turn on the vacuum cleaner because it would scare Annie away. Sure enough, as soon as the vacuum cleaner came on, Annie ran away from the door and Heidi safely emerged from the hot attic. I did not want to use Annie’s nemesis against her, but I had to do it for her own good.

 

This is what love does, you know. It looks out for the good of the one who is loved while also, at times, maybe at a lot of times, spoiling the object of our affection to no end.

 

We love our Queen Antoinette (Annie) Mae Deaton. Unconditionally. I know that many of you love your pets unconditionally, too.

 

So friends: If we love our pets as much as we do, even when they are prickly and undeserving, then how much more must God love us?

 

God hand-feeds us in ways that we do not recognize. Every day. May we return God’s love like Annie returns mine when she hops into bed with me and curls up next to me and makes me stupidly happy in a way that I cannot describe.

 

Amen.