Search

Catholic Family Vignettes

A collage of literary snapshots from the life of a large traditional Catholic family

Date

January 22, 2008

Get this man a cup of coffee, please!

This would be painful to watch, if it weren’t so doggone funny!

Never forget…


48,632,071 little lives lost since January 22, 1973.

Thirty-five years of Roe vs. Wade. Thirty-five years of legalized infanticide. Thirty-five years of “civil” war on the front lines of the pro-life crusade. Thirty-five years of political doublespeak.

Thirty-five years of prayer and sacrifice.

From the USCCB:

In all the dioceses of the United States of America, January 22 (or January 23, when January 22 falls on a Sunday) shall be observed as a particular day of penance for violations to the dignity of the human person committed through acts of abortion, and of prayer for the full restoration of the legal guarantee of the right to life. The Mass “For Peace and Justice” (no. 22 of the “Masses for Various Needs”) should be celebrated with violet vestments as an appropriate liturgical observance for this day.

General Instruction of the Roman Missal, no. 373

Shall we pray? From Priests For Life:

Prayer to End Abortion

Lord God, I thank you today for the gift of my life,
And for the lives of all my brothers and sisters.
I know there is nothing that destroys more life than abortion,
Yet I rejoice that you have conquered death
by the Resurrection of Your Son.
I am ready to do my part in ending abortion.
Today I commit myself
Never to be silent,
Never to be passive,
Never to be forgetful of the unborn.
I commit myself to be active in the pro-life movement,
And never to stop defending life
Until all my brothers and sisters are protected,
And our nation once again becomes
A nation with liberty and justice
Not just for some, but for all,
Through Christ our Lord. Amen!

May God bless all of the good pilgrims on their way to our nation’s capital to give witness to the sanctity of human life.

This Cookie’s a Monster…

You have to read this post of Amy’s. It provides the perfect backdrop for this:

I have a cat. I didn’t want a cat.

Late last summer this really adorable kitten (we live on a farm…everyone assumes we are the local animal shelter, they drop off cats all the time!) showed up on the back porch. I quickly informed the husband and children that we were not, under any circumstances, keeping the cat. No matter that he was very cute. And that he had blue eyes.

(all together now: awwwwwww…isn’t he cute!)
Cookie Monster

No cat.

Then the cat caught a mouse. Outside the storage building. Quickly and efficiently. “He stays!” I boldly proclaimed, thinking cheap cat food and a flea treatment will take care of his most basic needs. Charlotte named him Cookie Monster.

When the temperatures dropped, we decided to bring the poor dear inside, he was rather scrawny (he’d been fighting off assorted wildlife for his dinner)…and made all of the arrangements to accommodate a feline, including the dreaded litter box.

The smell, was unbearable. We tried every type of litter, scooping twice daily, deodorizing…to no avail.

Then a good friend stopped by for a visit. She took a good long look at our cat and said, “I think he’s a Rag Doll…”

“Yeah…he is kind of cute, but the smell!” was my reply.

She proceeded to explain that Rag Doll was the breed. A fairly expensive and desirable breed and we should do a little research.

Sure enough, this “throw away” cat, is without doubt, a Rag Doll. Check the comparison:

Well, the cat’s diet improved dramatically after that revelation, away with the cheap food! Amazingly, the “stinky litter box” problem disappeared just as soon as his highness’ diet was improved.

The great thing about Rag Dolls: they are more dog than cat. They don’t pounce on you, they don’t have the energy to chase a ball of string let alone tear up your curtains. They can be picked up and placed in any position imaginable…and they’ll stay there! Guests have stepped on our cat…he just lays there. He is absolutely enormous now…getting bigger every day.

The downside: he thinks he’s a dog. He simply refuses to urinate in the litter box. He must go outside or he’ll “go” all over the kitchen floor. Huge puddles. Like a dog.

The worst yet? He peed on me. Last night.

Quick. Tell me he’s a really pretty cat. Or it’s Craigslist.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑