Not the Father’s will that any of these should perish

Even so it is not the will of your Father which is in heaven, that one of these little ones should perish. (Matthew 18:14)

On November 19, 2020, a furry gentleman adopted me into his world in complete surrender. On November 27, 2022, I allowed him to return to God.

Rocky Balboa was a precious black and white, long-haired kitty who may have taken his good old sweet time learning to trust me, but once he did, it was full-on devotion. I had seen Rocky around my yard for almost a year, but he’d never let me get close to him. When I first spotted the large dark spot on his left shoulder that didn’t quite match his other markings, I became more interested in him – wondering if it was a large wound. I tried to photograph him and zoom in on the mark but could never be quite sure what I was seeing.

It was while I was attempting to do so that Rocky first became more interested in me. I tried talking to him from afar – tossing treats into the grass to him – but I could never get close. I asked my neighbors about him, and they told me they thought he was blind and deaf – due to his penchant for lying beneath their truck with barely a response when they tried to get him to move. .At the prospect of these additional conditions, my empathy kicked in – big time. I was determined to befriend this little guy. If nothing else, I wanted him to be touched – to experience what love is and to know that he didn’t have to be alone.

Three months later, Rocky surprised me by waiting for me on my porch when I came home from work. As I slowly approached him, he didn’t move, so I ran inside to get some treats to toss. After doing so, I was shocked to see Rocky slowly coming towards me, cautiously venturing over to indulge in the kibble. He was starting to trust me!  

Within a week, Rocky regularly ate on my porch and allowed me to sit with him while he dined. My goal was to let him get used to my presence. It was a long, slow process, but I was determined to show love to this precious orphan. If I could just touch him for a moment, that would make me so happy. He was so skittish I never thought that day would come – until it did.

After weeks of sitting on the cold concrete, barely moving, consistently offering my camaraderie, kind words, and smiling face to this poor soul, one day Rocky gave in. As if a switch clicked inside him, Rocky walked over and sat down within inches of me. Not knowing how he’d react, I slowly reached out, offered my hand, and gently touched his head. That was all it took. Before I knew what was happening, this long-suffering creature climbed into my lap. I barely breathed when he did so but carefully pulled out my phone to take a photo of the milestone. When Rocky finally let me pet him – truly stroke his dirty fur – my heart soared as I marveled at his trust in me. Such a gift.

Despite his earlier reservations, Rocky demonstrated his joy as he began purring at my touch, seemingly unable to get enough of my love. My heart melted, and I was hooked. I had to take him inside.

What I’d long suspected was a shoulder wound was just that – a four by 5-inch, partially scabbed, deep, ugly gouge with leaves stuck in it. I didn’t dare touch it but felt such sympathy, knowing Rocky had carried this injury for at least 4-months: from when I first noticed his discolored shoulder. I suspected he was FIV-positive, like my other adopted kitty, Leo, due to his unhealing wound.

FIV stands for Feline Immunodeficiency Virus. While the disease is rare – affecting only 2-3% of the feline population in the U.S. – it is relatively common amongst Tom cats due to the saliva-to-blood transmission that can occur through a deep bite. While FIV is not the same as Feline Aids, much as HIV is not the same as the Aids virus in humans, it eventually can be – lowering a cat’s ability to combat infections.

A week later, I grabbed Rocky when he came to see me and rushed him inside my garage. He never protested. His vet visit the next day confirmed my earlier presumption.

“Many pet owners choose to euthanize their FIV-positive pets,” the vet explained. “What would you like to do?”

“I already suspected as much,” I replied. “That doesn’t surprise me. I intend to give Rocky all the love he can handle for as long as possible.”

With a freshly cleaned and shaved shoulder, antibiotics were prescribed for a newly neutered Rocky, and the rest is, as they say, history.

While it took a while for Rocky’s shoulder to heal, the fur eventually grew back without any lasting impact. A slow transition into my already two-cat household saw Leo and Rocky become best friends. I often wondered if they were long-lost cousins or even brothers, as their markings were similar, and they got along well.

Rocky didn’t know how to play when he first came inside – but once he learned, he taught Leo and Miss Kitty, my third cat, to wait patiently for our nightly routine of tossing the treats to whoever was “ready.” All it took was my asking, “Okay. Who’s ready?” for all three kitties to assemble in their designated locations to chase, block, and slide across the floor to catch and eat their goodies. The game became so indispensable to our nighttime routine that I had to explain it to my pet sitters. “If you don’t play ‘Ready,'” I insisted, “they’ll sit in their respective starting positions all night, just waiting for you to begin.”

Rocky and Leo were seldom far from each other’s sides over the past two years and often chased each other around the house in regular games of “Tag.” Best friends, if not brothers, to be sure.

It made me so happy to have Rocky jump into my lap, make kitty biscuits and lay down at regular intervals throughout the day. He loved popping his head up during Zoom meetings as I worked from home and consistently high-stepped ahead of me to wait for his dinner to be dispensed. Tail up, head high, he reminded me of a horse in a trotting race with his little black and white pajama markings swinging back and forth as he eagerly anticipated his thrice daily meals.

All that changed when Rocky became sick before my recent Samaritan’s Purse trip to Florida to assist with Hurricane Ian relief work. Regular vomiting ultimately became a diagnosis of intestinal cancer. When his mass disappeared after much prayer, medication, and lots of love, I truly believed God had given me a miracle.

A week later, a vet trip confirmed that Rocky was experiencing kidney failure. Still living up to his namesake, Rocky was a fighter with a heart of gold. His gentle, loving, energetic spirit never failed to charm anyone he met – even the workers in the animal hospital during his final visit. I didn’t want to let him go, but I knew the toxins in his body would eventually cause him to suffer, which I could never allow.

Rocky made my heart smile every day for two years and eight days. The joy he found in being loved changed his spirit and softened his heart even as it did mine.

There’s a part of me in such pain at losing him that I never want to love again. It’s too traumatic. And yet, God’s word tells us that “Above all, [we are to] love one another deeply.” (1 Peter 4:8). I believe that directive includes our animal friends, and I am more than happy to comply.

And yet love often includes heartache – as it did for me today. I take comfort in knowing there will come a time when all sadness, sickness, and death will be no more. How I long for that day. Revelation 21:4 promises, “He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

Until then, I look forward to seeing all my dearly departed loved ones – including my dear fur babies – again. “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care.” (Matthew 10:29)

How I miss my sweet Rocky’s contented presence. While I know his life was full of joy these past two years, it’s hard for me to quantify the happiness he brought me in return as he warmed my heart and lap each day.

I thank God for the blessing of Rocky’s unconditional love for as long as I had it.

May we all learn to live and love as adopted children of our heavenly Father just as our adopted fur babies demonstrate their trust and commitment to us.