One night, some years ago, I was home alone.  Ron was away on a business trip.  It was 10:00 and I was ready for bed, answering some mail before turning in for the night.  All of a sudden, a small explosion occurred against the front door of our home.  Our dog erupted with a vengeance.  The force against the door sounded like a large person was ramming against it.

Heart racing, I went to the door and flicked on all the outside lights.  I believed they might startle and deter the predators.  Then I went to all the other doors in the house to make sure they were locked.  I ran to change my clothes, put on running shoes, and prepared to exit the house through a back entrance if needed.

Then, a 2^nd explosion against the door occurred.  I knew I was in trouble.  I called 911 and asked for emergency assistance from the police.  Two squad cars were dispatched and the operator stayed on the phone with me.  While talking to her and waiting for the police, there was a 3^rd attempt ramming against the door.  I steeled myself for what might come next.

After what seemed like an eternity (though it was only four minutes), two officers arrived in two squad cars and walked the entire property.  Concluding their search, they knocked on the front door.  I was relieved to see them and sure enough, they pointed to evidence of force against the door.  A wire basket/wreath that hangs decoratively was hanging crooked, had been bent, and smashed, and most of the contents had spilled all over the porch.  However, the officers reported seeing no predator.

Finally, one policeman pointed down toward our feet.  A baby bird lay on the landing, fighting for his life.  Reaching down, he picked up the bird, looked at me and said, “Maam, by any chance, do you have a cat?”  I nodded yes.  The story began to take shape.  Our cat, named Steve, had been the predator.  The wire flower arrangement had a nest in it and he was running, leaping, and slamming against the door, trying to get to the birds.  Still stunned and shaky, I watched the policemen move the birds, in the nest, to a safe, new location.

I thanked them profusely, watched them drive away, and began to think about everything that had occurred.  Cats and people operate on different wavelengths.  Steve, our tiger cat, wouldn’t be deterred by bright lights, house alarms, even by my verbal threats to leave the premises ‘or else!’  The only way Steve would be stopped would be for someone to remove the temptation.  I treated him like a human; Steve reacted like a cat.

Just as the human world and the animal world operate by different rules, so does the natural world and the spiritual world.  Oftentimes, I try to address a spiritual problem with a physical solution.  It is completely ineffective.  Spiritual predators must be addressed spiritually.

Is Steve in the doghouse?  No.  He was just being himself.  The baby birds?   All lived.   My appreciation for the Athens, Georgia police department?  Huge.   My nerves?   That was another story.