Now we lay our boy down to sleep, and turn him over to our cat to keep

How Royce must love this little boy! The boy we call Wry. How patient Royce is with Wry. Look! Wry is charging toward Royce and Chicago! What can anyone expect the cats to do, but to flee?

Chicago does flee. But Royce stays put. Royce knows what is coming. Royce waits for the toddler to crash down upon him.

Wry and Royce. Wry can be so rough with Royce. Royce is so gentle with Wry.

I often find Royce watching out for Wry, observing him. Remember Wry's first birthday party? Royce was there, to watch him wallow in cake. Remember when Wry took his first steps? Royce was there, to watch and encourage.

Wry gets up. Royce gets up.

Here they are, together again, playing on the floor.

It looks as though Royce whispers in Wry's ear! But a cat can't whisper! What would Royce whisper if he could?

Bend down close and listen... Royce does not whisper, he purrs.

And then, when little Wry goes to bed, Royce is there to say a prayer for him. No! No! No! This is absurd! Cat's don't pray.

Or do they?

How would a human know?

And if a cat prays, what kind of God does it pray to?

A furry God?

A God with a twitchy tail?

A God who purrs?

Surely, if Royce does pray, this is how it translates:

"Dear God - This little kid is rough. He tumbles right down on top of me, rolls right over me. God, this little tyke has been known to pull out tufts of my fur, and stick them in his mouth. But, hell, God! I love him. Watch over him, and keep him safe."

And all this Royce will say with just one single word, "Meow."

"Meow" is one mighty powerful and flexible word.

Carnival of the Cats: I don't know what got into me, because I sure don't have the time or energy, but a few months back, I volunteered to host "Carnival of the Cats" for next week. I must be an April fool. But I am committed and I will do it.

Anyone who wants to submit anything, just send it here:

submissions@carnivalofthecats.com