Kav's Corner Christopher Kavanaugh's take on life:

My cat Piewacket is a devoted friend and family member.

3 years ago I rescued him as an abandoned kitten on a horse ranch seconds from being stomped to death by a horse.

He was a perfect match for my gray herringbone Harris tweed jacket, and male.
A dime a dozen, a troublesome future Tom. No, I'd find somebody to take him.
'Pie' has slept to the left of my head ever since.

He has a rather inconvenient feeding schedule, persistently worrying my wrist with firm bites @ 4 A.M. until I rise and open a can of one of two basic flavors ( chicken or beef.) He won't touch any of the exotic chopped, gravied, mixed or other meats. No, Pie is a basic 'meat and potatoes' kind of guy.

I couldn't find the sack of food I bought only yesterday. A thorough search and I knew the sad truth.
For the second time I had inadvertently thrown it out with the rest of the household trash.
Disaster!

So I dressed, walked outside to a magnificent moon, dodging the skunk family, opossums, raccoons and the twin yellow eyes of a coyote.

I was lucky, only a thin layer of refuse lined the dumpster and I could see one of my sacks by flashlight.
Now it gets difficult. To reach the sacks, I have to balance my waist on the steel edge and replicate some ancient Greek’s comment about moving the world.

Only at 55 it's more of not injuring body parts I insulted at 25 when I was young and would live forever.
It took several bobbings, like a diver coming up for air as I grabbed one wrong sack after another.
And then success! I even mumbled the Jesus prayer as the attractive young Nurse walked past, first worried about this disheveled male and then on recognition giving a look of abject pity. I could only mumble 'Good morning! I threw my cat food out by mistake yesterday' - as futile an explanation as any I've tendered a woman in my life.

Once back inside Pie rubbed against my legs and meowed. I triumphantly opened a can.
Pie took one small bite and went back to bed.

So I brewed some tea and turned on the radio. I picked up an Eastern Orthodox program for our Easter calendar correctly one week later than everybody else.

Russian monks from Saint Valaam's chanted, Pie rolled over on his stomach, content food was there at his convenience.

My signed photo of his Holiness, the Dalai Lama smiled down on me next to the icons of Saint Hermann of Alaska and Saint Irene Crysovolantu.

I finally understood the rational for rising early for prayer. It's as much service for others as oneself , if 'only' for a cat.