Luigi the Slayer of Serpents

There are four cats in my household.

Luigi likes to clench in his mouth a cat fishing pole toy, or a rope from a bathrobe, or something similar, and drag it around the house.

While yowling.

Luigi thinks he killed a snake.

I don’t know if Luigi marches about and yowls because he’s on a victory lap or if he marches about and yowls as a public service announcement that the local predator has been apprehended.

Luigi probably doesn’t know why he’s doing what he’s doing either. Saying he looks silly would be an understatement.

I have to enthusiastically praise him, “Good boy Luigi,” for him to stop.

He’s the only cat of the quartet that does any of this. The other cats must think, “What catnip were you rolling around in?”

Luigi thinks he’s the slayer of serpents!

In actuality, Luigi is a pussycat who doesn’t know how great he has it, or that he has, in fact, accomplished nothing. Probably ever.

Is that how foolish we look when we think we’ve accomplished something?

“I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing.” John 15:5 NRSVCE

Does pride make us look as laughable as Luigi, or even worse?

It can be hard to comprehend how foolish our pride may make us look through a spiritual lens.

But, just as I grin at ludicrous Luigi and hold him in great affection—In how much more affection must Our Heavenly Father hold us?

Even in our ludicrous pride.

More reflections on cats in light of God's love for us: 

The Love of the Father—Shown Through My Cats

My Cats Remind Me to Cultivate Interior Silence