Wanting to make things easier for myself, I decided to take advantage of this Episcopal tradition at the Church of the Heavenly Rest, which is so much more convenient to me, being across from the park, just a couple of blocks away from where I live. So I thought how special it would be to pack Milo into his snug carrier, and tote him off for some blessings. I sort of forgot that I would have to battle all nine of his lives to convince him that being zipped up in a claustrophobic chamber was a good idea.
There are docile pets who sweetly cuddle in the arms of loved ones. Under the best of conditions Milo isn't one of them. Not only did this scaredy cat not make it to the church on time, he reminded me what having claws is all about! What was I thinking? Maybe camels can make it to church, but an independent cat? Let it be known that St. Francis, gentle soul and hovering spirit, when summoned by a trembling supplicant (me, not Milo), laid calming hands on both of us. I am grateful to be rid of unreasonable desires, and Milo, happy enough to cough up a hair ball in peace.