• On cats, God and heaven
•  
• I've been in a snit with God lately.  It started before Zsa-Zsa got sick.  I'm not sure, but I think God is now using things to do with Zsa-Zsa to reach me. 
•  
• Of course, cats have long been associated with the supernatural.  I don't think they fit too well in the framework of modern Christian theology, but, well, I don't care.  Here goes:  
•  
• Monday evening, after Zsa-Zsa died, I lit some candles, got the prayer book and started modifying some of the prayers for the dead to fit Zsa-Zsa.  For some unknown reason, a tea light melted down completely, the fluid caught on fire, started smoking and set off the smoke alarm.
•  
• That shouldn't have happened -- no reason for it, but it reminded me of the time seven or eight years ago when I was having a romantic evening with a boyfriend. I had lit candles all around the room and we were engaged in very romantic talk when Zsa-Zsa came strolling toward us, oblivious to the fact that the fur on her flanks was ablaze.  She had strolled too near a candle. We grabbed her and wrapped her with a towel to smother the blaze, an action of which she was most unappreciative.  Luckily, some fur was all that had burned.  The apartment stank of singed cat fur for days.
•  
• I had to laugh, remembering it.
•  
• The next morning, Tuesday, the Best Dog in the World (Betsy), Good Old Boy and Elvis the Cat all took turns staring, as if in a trance, at a spot in front of what I call "the cat room."  (It's a spare room that became the cat hang-out and feeding place the dogs dare not enter -- they have to get past a pet gate of which they're terrified. It's been used to confine them in the kitchen.)
•  
• I have no idea what they were staring at and what compelled each of them to come look, separately. There was certainly nothing visible to my human eye. But it's a spot through which Zsa-Zsa would pass frequently. 
•  
• This morning, I could have sworn I caught a glimpse of her sitting on the arm of the sofa, licking her paw as if in preparation for washing her face.  A trick of the imagination, most likely, because I still expect to see her.  Every night this week, I've come home and felt like something was wrong, then realized I was one short.  I subconsciously do a head count when I come in, and one animal has seemed unaccounted for.
•  
• I keep feeling that Zsa-Zsa's little spirit is reminding me that she might not be here any more, but it's all right.  She's all right  --  not unaccounted for, but in a good place.
•  
• I'll always miss Zsa-Zsa, just as I still miss her precedessor, who's been gone for 15 years now. But I believe if there's a heaven, all these creatures we care so much about are there, too.  In my Father's house are many mansions, with lots of room for pets.  Otherwise, it just wouldn't be heaven.
•  
• And if God cares about little orange cats, and the Bible says He/She cares even about the little sparrows that fall, then God is okay in my book.
•  
• If I make it to heaven, I know Zsa-Zsa and the others will be there waiting for me.
•  
•  
•