It's All Black and White

When our family moved from Massachusetts to the southeastern corner of Washington State in 1991, one of the things we missed most was the variety of birds in the yard. In Massachusetts we’d been in the midst of mixed deciduous forest with its multitude of niches, hence bird species. In Walla Walla, we were on the edge of the Great Basin Desert, most of which had been turned in to agricultural land with the advent of irrigation, thanks to the many dams on the Columbia and Snake rivers. While the nearby Blue Mountains did have lots of bird species, down in the Walla Walla Valley there weren’t a large number of species.

There were several species fairly common around our three-plus acres: Western Meadowlark, Barn Swallows, and Black-billed Magpies. The latter are members of the crow and jay family, tend to form small flocks, and are quite garrulous. Like the American Crow, they are quite inquisitive, and, to be a little anthropomorphic, sly with a bit of sense of humor.

A few months back I mentioned our cat, Momma Kitty. Well, she had a brother, Kitty Boy. Kitty Boy was a large, solidly-built black-and-white cat. I mean, Momma Kitty is a normal-sized cat. Kitty Boy stood almost two inches taller at the shoulder. Solid, heavy. I guess I’d have to say he was mine. Anytime I was outside, he was by my side. He would follow along as I mowed the lawn, moved irrigation pipe, and dug out thistles in the pasture,…or whatever. He was always there. He wanted to be petted all the time, and welcomed visitors. He did, however, have one drawback. He loved to lie in laps. Did I mention he was big?

You might ask why this would be a problem. Well, as I said, he loved to lie in laps, and once he got in one, he didn’t leave until he was ready to. If you tried to pick him up to set him on the ground, he’d hiss terribly, and, if you actually persisted, bite your hand. If you tried to dump him by standing up, he’d just dig in his claws, and stay in place. Your lap may have disappeared, but Kitty Boy didn’t.

What, you may ask does a big, black-and-white cat have to do with black-and-white Magpies? They didn’t get along. If Kitty Boy would see one out in the pasture, he’d try to sneak up on it (he wasn’t capable of understanding that a mostly white cat will stand out in a green field). If there was only one bird, it would fly away. If there was a pair, Kitty Boy was in for some torment.

One of the two birds would walk toward the cat, as if unaware of his presence. Meanwhile, the other bird would circle around behind, and dive-bomb Kitty Boy. He never learned. He’d whirl around and head for the one that had just hit him from behind, giving opportunity to the first bird to repeat the process. This would go on for some time, until finally Kitty Boy realized he’d never win and would take off running for the barn, followed by a pair of scolding Magpies.

It has always seemed to me that Satan attacks us much in the same way as those birds attacked Kitty Boy. If you keep your eye on him from one direction, he’ll hit you from behind. No matter how hard we try, we can’t beat him, nor avoid the torment when we are out in the open on our own. The only safety is to run to our Master. You see, never, ever, was Kitty Boy bothered by the Magpies when he was in the yard with me. The birds stayed away.

Also, I have to admire Kitty Boy’s tenacity for staying in a lap. Do we try as hard to stay within the Lord’s safe arms? Or are we like the other cat I wrote about a couple of months ago, the one that displaced Momma Kitty in our garage? Louis refuses to be held, and will end up biting if you try to hold her. Two extremes. Which one represents our relationship with our Master, Kitty Boy or Louis?

Dr. G