Thursday, November 7, 2013

Prisoner of (Coon) War

It was almost midnight when I woke up last night. I was worried about our cat, Smokey, who had not been seen since midmorning. It had been a nice day, weather-wise, so I wasn’t too surprised at first. But by the time the sun set and the cold set in, he still hadn’t shown up. We prayed, of course, and tried not to think about the coyotes and foxes that occasionally trespass on the place.

An image flashed across my sleep-sluggish mind: the trap that Hubby and I had seen a few days before while we were walking on a neighbor’s property. A coon trapper had set it alongside the canal and baited it with cat food.

I traded pajamas for winter clothing and trudged out into the dark, armed with a flashlight and Bodie, our cowdog-turned-search-and-rescue-dog.

Bodie heard Smokey’s plaintive meows before he saw him. Sure enough, Smokey was behind bars. I don’t know who was happier or more relieved to find and set Smokey free: me or the cat!

Smokey's prison

“I tell prisoners, ‘Come on out. You’re free!’ and those huddled in fear, ‘It’s all right. It’s safe now.’” –ISAIAH 49:9 (MSG)



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