Prodigal Cat

Last Saturday Maybelle went for a walk. I thought for sure she would be back home by Sunday evening, and when we still hadn't seen her on Monday, Wes and I assumed the worst. On Tuesday Keagan was beside himself with worry and sat on the couch staring at a picture of his cat with tears streaming down his face. I was saddened with the loss of our first family pet, but I couldn't help but think that damn thing left after I had just spent a $100 on her at the vet's office.

And yet we woke up every morning looking for the cat, searching the backyard for any small movement and walking the cul-de-sac calling her name. Keagan continued his nightly prayers asking God to lead Maybelle from the woods to our back porch. He kept the faith - even when Evan so delicately stated, "The cat's dead, Keagan. Time to move on."

After one full week, a FULL WEEK, the long lost cat returned. It was indeed a miracle. There was much celebration and hugs and scratches under the neck. We didn't kill the fattened calf, but we did purchase a new cat brush to celebrate her return. Soon the boy and his cat were fast asleep, sleeping side by side like they have done countless nights.

She was dead but alive again; she was lost but now she's found.