And in three days...

When I was a kid, my dad would take us fishing on holidays and weekends.  I loved these adventures. Even now, Port Aransas/Rockport is among my favorite places in Texas. 

The Texas coast brings back memories of:

• humid, salty, stinging coastal winds
• wading through stinky, mucky shoal waters despite the risk of skewering by sleeping sting rays
  
• long nights spent casting, popping, and reeling in colorful rubbery trout-rigs
  
• ugly fish with funny names like dogfish, gafftop and hardheads, and,
• occasionally, my brother's hooks "accidentally" stuck in my forehead.

One of these early morning fishing trips, I found my wet shivering cat in the cold dewy grass.  Everyone was in the truck ready to head out, but I knew that something was wrong. I hopped out and picked her up. I put her into the dog house for warmth and comfort. Then I took some teasing for taking care of my little animal while everyone waited.

:== SIDEBAR ==: I'm probably the only cat lover in my family. I don't know about my dad. Do children ever know how our fathers really feel? My mom says she grew up with several cats, and that these cats were fed and loved better than she or her siblings. So, you can imagine her feelings regarding cat ownership (and her mother). My older brother used to joke (I think) about shooting BBs at neighborhood cats. And my little brother... well, he likes cats, but says he doesn't because he wants to maintain a macho exterior like my older brother. Back to the story...

I don't remember how many fish we caught that time out, but when we returned I checked up on my cat. I called to her several times, but there was no answer (oh yeah, did I mention Frosty's deafness...?). After checking her usual hangouts, under the car... on top of the water heater... the A/C units... I finally thought to look in the doghouse where I had left her. There, I found her, her brilliant blue siamese eyes faded and gray.

Before feeling the grief of her passing, I thought, "This is Easter!" Surely anything that dies on Easter will rise again in three days!

:== SIDEBAR ==: Did I mention that I was brought up to be a hardcore Catholic School Girl? Oh yes, 8 years of Our Lady of Victory, Baby! I used to run around sharing the 10 commandments with other kids in the neighborhood. For some reason, they didn't seem to get it. The 10 commandments were a list of rules that were God-approved! Back to the story...

My dad and brothers stuffed her little body into a black trash bag and then buried her body. I refused to attend her burial. I waited three days before visiting on her grave. I don't know what I imagined would happen. Seriously, was she going to bust out of the earth in Pet Cemetary flair?

Anyway... That day I had a mature conversation with God about the Bible. That day I learned that the folks in charge aren't always consistent in their promises. That day I learned that it is okay to question authority.

Happy Easter!