Three years ago, a stray cat began hanging around our house, possibly because my husband and I have two cats in residence. He was a dirty, white and black cat with a sore eye and many matted areas of fur. As spring approached we began to feed him. Gradually, he allowed us to pet him and would occasionally jump into our laps. He was eager for attention, although he was still cautious.
One morning when I stroked his back, he suddenly turned and bit my lower arm. He hung on and his teeth sank in. I stayed very still, and then, just as quickly, he let go and ran away. I think he was as surprised as I was.
My first response was to pray, and I acknowledged that as a spiritual idea, I was completely intact. In a universe governed by God, there was nothing that had the power to harm me. I then covered the wound. As I went about doing outdoor chores with my husband that day, I continued to pray for myself and for the cat. I reasoned that my intentions were good, and that I couldn't suffer from trying to help one of God's creatures. I knew that both the cat and I were protected by Love.
