Peanut Butter Cat

Israel is known for its overabundance of cats. Our neighborhood is no exception. The difference between Israeli cats, and their foreign counterparts, though, is their overwhelming tenacity. The term 'scaredy cat' does not apply to the majority of feline Sabras—they'll simply stare you down if they cross your path. Many a time I will make my way to the opposite side of the street when I see a cat on the sidewalk—something I never did in the States, since the cats there mostly followed the prevalent 'natural' order of things. But after six years of living here, I have come to the conclusion that most things here do not follow the 'natural order of things' thankfully–cats included.
 
That's why, on the rare occasion that the child in charge of garbage duty is nowhere to be seen, and I am the one who must see to this task, I follow a ritual upon reaching the dumpsters outside of our building. First, I stand several feet away from said dumpsters, and proceed with my special Cat Detecting Procedure. This consists of me, making a loud hissing noise in quick succession, repeating two to three times. This will alert any cats foraging in the dumpster of my presence, and they will jump out while I am still at a safe distance from the garbage receptacles. This method was only employed after I once had a close call after throwing in my garbage, only to have about two to three cats pop out, like furry Jacks in Boxes, causing me to flee with my heart racing, the cats screeching ringing in my ears.
 
One can say I like to stay far from cats.
 
But even I, the affirmed cat avoider, was moved by the story of a certain animal belonging to this particular species. It happened when our kids came home excitedly after Shul on Motzai Shabbos, with the most fantastical tale. The hullabaloo was due to a feline wonder, which we will call Peanut Butter Cat.
 
What, pray tell, is a Peanut Butter Cat? In this instance, it is a cat, running around our parking lot, with a peanut butter jar stuck on its head.
 
I can only imagine how it got there. Of course, it must have been trying to lick the last of the peanut butter out of someone's discarded garbage, and voila! We had ourselves a Peanut Butter Cat!
 
It was interesting to note some of  the reactions of our children. The one who loves to be the 'reporter' in the family, described the cat's “mother and three sisters” looking desperately to help their ailing Peanut Butter Cat out of its predicament. The spiritual one declared this to be a tikun, followed by a lengthy sigh. The animal lover offered ten shekels to any kid in the building who would save Peanut Butter Cat from its perilous situation. And the rest bemoaned the sorry state of Peanut Butter Cat, hoping that one of the kids in the building would finally catch it and manage to twist the offending jar off of its head. Even I felt bad—and as I said—the cats here don't usually hold the softest spot in my heart.
 
The kids continued to describe this poor cat, with its peanut butter jar, running away from those who so badly wanted to help him. He kept hiding underneath a parked car, thinking that he was in danger, instead of realizing that all the kids wanted to do was help him to free himself from this annoying and suffocating contraption.  He kept running away from his salvation, thinking he would be safe if he took care of it himself.
 
This whole episode jarred me (pun totally intended!) to the realization that Peanut Butter Cat was displaying some very familiar behavior……
 
We are all Peanut Butter Cat at one point or another. We keep running away from our 'salvation', hiding under the parked car of life, wanting to just 'take care of things ourselves'. We run amok in the parking lot that is this world, with peanut butter jars obscuring our vision, stubbornly holding on to those things that hurt us instead of seeking help from The One Who could save us.
 
I think of all the times I have relied on my own resources, peanut butter jar planted firmly on my head, refusing to acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, HaShem actually knows better than I do. How much aggravation I could save myself by just relinquishing everything to His Shoulders, instead of hiding, trying to solve life's problems on my own, running away from His presence in order to prove my own resourcefulness. The only problem is that the peanut butter jar stays stuck. And so do I.
 
So although I am not feeling any warmer or fuzzier towards cats in general, I do feel like I have to thank Peanut Butter Cat in particular. He was a messenger from HaShem  in helping me to remember what I should always know, but sometimes forget: that in this big, scary parking lot called life, we are not alone. There's no need to hide from our Creator when all He is trying to do is to help us—if only we are willing to allow Him in. That whenever we run around, trying to pull that  stubborn peanut butter jar off of our heads, all we have to do is call out to Him, and He will get us out of our 'sticky' situations.
 
So the next time I find myself suffering from Peanut Butter Cat Syndrome, I will try to exhale, and let HaShem take over, instead of turning it into a 'CATastrophy. Sorry—I just couldn't resist!