I leap up beside the book. This part is fun because I always feel I am about to fall off. I tremble perilously in space. Then I push the book with a paw, nudging it over the edge.

It falls to the floor with a great crash, splayed open. I wait, because it’s not over yet; a few moments later the house shakes and there is a rumble in the earth. The first time it happened I yowed and hid under the couch. But I came to understand that these are His signs that I’m doing the right thing.

I leap down, landing neatly on all four paws and the LORD points my eyes at the verse He wants me to see.

Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God.

I tremble with the rightness of it. I love my Ted, my tabby, my house, my life. I am a lucky cat.

When I find a verse I like, I try to remember it—like that one I just said. But it can be hard to hold phrases in the mind whole. It’s like oversetting a cup of marbles on a hard floor. They run in every direction into the dark.

The book is just a guide, really. I think the LORD is different for cats. He prefers to speak to us directly. We don’t see things the way teds do.

I settle down on the couch in a disc of sunshine. I deliberately turn my back on the fallen Bible, so that Ted will know it’s nothing to do with me. The whine has quieted some.

Now, why do I still have a bad feeling? What could be wrong? The Bible verse could not have been more positive. Anyway the trick to life is, if you don’t like what is happening, go back to sleep until it stops.

TED

I’ve been thinking that I should record some memories of Mommy. That way they won’t disappear, even if I do. I don’t want her to be forgotten. It’s really hard to choose one, though. Most of my memories have secrets in them and are not suitable.

I have a great idea. What about that day by the lake? There are no secrets in that story. Can’t find the recording thing at first; I’m sure I last had it in the kitchen. Eventually, after a hunt, I find it behind the couch in the living room. Weird. But that’s my brain for you.

So. This is how I first got my love of birds. It was summer and we took a trip to the lake. I was six, I don’t recall much from around that age but I remember how this felt.