All right guys, it's time for the bi-annual story with a moral.
This afternoon, as I was sprawled across my wonderful, comfy, king size pillow-top mattress on my beautiful bed that my handsome husband bought me, talking to him on the phone, my Trinket and my Gizmo joined me on the bed. For a short while they were content just with being on the bed. For a short time they were just fine pretending to people, enjoying the comfort of a luxurious mattress instead of a kitty bed, or just the carpet. Then after a couple of minutes, contentedness turned into boredom. Gizmo resumed her kitty ways and began washing herself, and Trinket turned to the pursuit of the glass chalice in which the people water dwells. It became a game- Trinket would walk over to the glass and start to sniff, perhaps have a taste, and her mommy would notice the mischeif and pull the kitten back onto the bed, roll her over onto her side and pet her. Trinket would purr, allow herself to be wooed by the delights of being caressed and leaving a token amount of shedded fur on the bed, and then resume her pursuit of the people water. After several circuits of the game, I got off the phone with Wonderful Husband, and began trying to convince Trinket that I didn't need help drinking the water. I lured her over to the other side of the bed and petted her. Then I cradled he rin my arms and stroked her belly. I tried playing with her with a string. And still, she would humor me for a minute or two, give me a decisive "Meh", then wriggle away and go for the water. So, I gave in to her. I decided to share my water with my delightful kitten. I went over to my nightstand, and there was Trinket, looking at the water in the glass with lust in her pleading eyes. I picked up the glass and asked if she wanted some. She purred. So I took the glass, and she followed me into her room, where I poured the water from my glass goblet into her water bowl. And then, guess what happened? She watched me pour the coveted water into the bowl, gave the bowl a derisive sniff, then stalked away. No thank you. Just a disgruntled wave of the tail.
So, where is the moral in this little experience? It struck me that the only difference in the water in her bowl and the water in my glass was the outside packaging. The water is inherently wet and delicious, but the presentation was what mattered to my Trinket. This led me to my thoughts about how Trinket is not so very much different from myself (aside from the fact that she is an animal and I am a human), or even from the world at large. People also tend to go more for the outward appearance. Why else would there be discrimination against fat people, ugly people, dirty people, and minorities? They did a special on Dr. Phil and showed that there is a vast difference between the way handsome people and pretty people are treated. We, as people, have been duped by appearances. Why do people act like a fat person is less precious or worthy of love than a thin one? Why do they think that an ugly person is less worthy of admiration than a thin one? All humans have the exact same basic worth- despite fat ugly, white, black, yellow, green, purple, or warty, and despite their education level, income level, or criminal record- because they were made by God and loved by him. Not saying, of course, that it would be wise to invite a serial killer over for dinner or hire a child molester to babysit the kids. There's nothing wrong with protecting oneself against the mistakes and downfalls of another person. What I am saying, though, is that all people have inherent worth, in spite of genetics and bad choices. Whether you look like a glass chalice or a kitty dish, the water inside is still the same.