Stepping onto the Soapbox…

I didn’t give birth to them. I didn’t gestate for nine months. No, really, I didn’t. They have four legs instead of just two. They are covered in fur instead of skin. They don’t have thumbs. They don’t speak…well, not English anyway. But, they love me immensely. I love them even more.

So…

When they are sick, I will take care of them. I will hold them and love them and do everything in my power to nurse them back to health. I will. And if you cannot understand that, I really don’t care. You want to have a problem with it? Go ahead. Have a problem with it.

I. Don’t. Care.

Whenever they need me, I will be there…whenever…every time. Why? Because, “…inasmuch as you did it to the least of these, you did it to me”.

‘nuff said?

  • Share/Save/Bookmark

2 Responses to “Stepping onto the Soapbox…”

  1. sizzle Says:

    amen to that!

  2. Juli Says:

    Of course, Honey, of course you’ll be there for your babies. Maybe that’s the sometimes unusual Holmes/Denning/whatever gene coming out in us. Or maybe it’s God telling us to help protect and take care of His babies. I am SO happy that Libby is okay!

    And, BTW, other than my beautiful pound-pup Beckett and my husband’s pound-pup dog, Magenta, I have approximately 20 feral cats that I travel around the island to feed on a daily basis. Yes, I’ve done the TAR (trap/alter/release) program so they only multiply when uneduated/foolish (I’m being nice here …) allow animals to populate and then toss them like trash on a woodpile.

    I don’t know who said what to you, but it apparently wasn’t a very caring person. You just keep right on taking care of yours/God’s babies. Bless you!!

Leave a Reply