Cat Sandwich

I awoke this morning, aware that a cat was snuggled along my right side, curved up under my arm. I suspected, correctly, that it was Herbie (the world’s cuddliest cat). 

On a prayerful hunch, I moved my left arm out. Sure enough, there was Guinness (not the world’s cuddliest cat) curled up against my side, toward my lower back. 

I was a cat sandwich. 

I spent about the next 15 minutes alternatively caressing my guys, generating sleepy purrs. 

What a lovely, gentle miracle. 

Especially since only 24 hours earlier I had awakened with sickening dread and sorrow believing that the vet would have to put Guinness to sleep because of an incurable, inoperable ailment. 

But when we got to the vet, he said Guinness was getting better, that he’d get a shot that day, then another in two days and be checked again on four days. 

So. I don’t know how much more time we have. Who does? 

But I do know that all lovely, gentle miracles should be acknowledged with gratitude. 

So thanks.