Blessed Be the Paw: My Unexpected Day at Church

I’ve seen things across the span of my nine lives you people couldn’t imagine. Dust motes colliding in a sun beam, shot from high, in the laundry, as I pooped. I have dreamt of the evisceration of birds and purred as you stroked my fur. I have watched the wind from within the living room window for hours, pausing infrequently to lick my paw. But I had never been blessed before.

This changed recently when myself and an assortment of other creatures attended the annual blessing of the animals at Buninyong Uniting Church. It was auspicious, yet confusing, and I’m still not sure how I feel about it. So far, I don’t feel any change, but I received a fat scoop of jelly and meat when I got home, and that is never a bad thing.

The day began like any other, with meowing by my bowl and accusatory stares at the humans I reside with. I recall a desire to go outside and hunt, when suddenly I was gently plunked into a container with the other cat, Agatha. This usually means an injection, or a finger in my bottom, neither of which I particularly enjoy, so with some trepidation I was carried to the car, destination uncertain. This is outside, I considered glumly. You should be careful what you wish for.

“This is your special day, Melvin!” one of the humans cooed through the grate at me, “You are going to be blessed!”

“Is that what they are calling it now?” I indicated to Agatha with my eyes, and she paused, momentarily, from nervously licking her sphincter.

We arrived soon thereafter at a foot of a white building shaped like an isosceles triangle that echoed with the tolling of a bell. Agatha mewled quietly as we were transported within.

Through the mesh in the container, I could discern little; a high ceiling, rows of seating, multiple humans with varying degrees of white hair and uniform pink faces. There was no scent of food I could detect, wet or dry, but I could smell three dogs, and I could hear them breathing, and my hackles elongated briefly until I verified that they were restrained.

I confess I dozed once the speaking started and opened one eye as songs rose and ended. It was curious to me that no one appeared to notice the glad apparition that formed above, near the ceiling, among the wooden rafter belts, and how it smiled when some children spoke through animal hand puppets. A tiny yet magnificent tear appeared in its angel eye, taking in this strange gathering of man, woman, boy, girl and beast below. The band played “All Creatures Great and Small”, which is a song I remember well from my time in the seminary.

Suddenly I was lifted out from my container by my human and carried to the front of the gathering. Is this when they clip my claws? I wondered with alarm. But no, I was placed in the lap of the lady who seemed to be in charge, and she stroked my head and shoulders with a calming combination of delicacy and firmness. She told me that I was a good cat, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.

Which I knew already, but it was reassuring to be reminded of this, and the people seemed to dig it.

Once returned to my container I fell immediately into a deep sleep. I dreamt of a donkey towering over me, looking down, and it said, “Yes. I saw it too”. And I asked it, “When am I going to be fed next?” and it said, “Soon”.