Have you heard the story about the lizard, parrot, and 6 cats who walked into the house of a pet-disliking woman?

Pets were not a part of my childhood--I thought them bothersome. So when I met my husband (and his two cats), I was not impressed, touched by, or attracted to his cats. However, I was nice to them . . . the felines and I tolerated each other.

"Yuck!" to the fur balls. Just something else to vacuum up.

"Nasty" to the litter box. I already clean the toilets!

"Gross" to the smell of canned cat food. Just something icky to smell first thing in the morning.

"Sigh" to the money spent on food, vaccines, vet bills.

But along came this little sweet munchkin (who is now 11) .

And God has worked on my heart. Over the last 25 1/2 years of marriage and 19 years of parenthood (especially, the last 7 years), there have been a parade of pets--Lizzy the eastern fence lizard, Sunshine the toad, MacCauliffe the African gray parrot, an anole (forgot his name), crickets, mice, and an assortment of cats--they all kinda grew on me.

Being a firm believer that God puts people, places, things, even

pets, etc., in our lives for a reason, I recently sat at a stoplight pondering the question, "How did God come to put 6 cats in our life?" It made me think about how much my attitude had changed and how our family had been blessed by the parade of pets.

So, I determined there were (at least) 8 things we have learned from our pets:

1. God's attention to detail is a marvel. It's amazing to watch a mama cat give birth, nurse, nurture, and "let go" of her kittens. This mama cat didn't read "What to Expect When Your Expecting for Cats", God designed her to do just what needs to be done to feed and protect her babies. How incredible it is that this little creature prepares for their birth, then worries about their safety during those early weeks. Our mama cat would carry her kittens around trying to find a new safe place (although we never threatened their space)--you really can't help but watch this process and marvel at His design in these inherent behavior patterns.

2. They become part of even the most mundane parts of your day--and make them better. Seriously, walking down the stairs would not be the same without our kittens Scrawny, Crash, and Indy, sprinting ahead of me, then blocking me, I mean waiting for me, on the bottom stair. I then say, "Ok, you goofies, move please." And we carry on with our day. Happens 90 percent of the mornings. Sure, going down the stairs would be safer and easier without them, but it's fun to watch the three brothers race each other, sometimes crashing into one another. They're having a blast and safe. They could be starving, cold, and living in a wood pile.

I realize I probably sound like some crazy, cat lady, living in a house with 100 cats, but I"m not that . . . yet.

3. Pets make even your biggest, brawniest boys turn to mush. I think that's good--our guys need to have a soft, compassionate, mushy side. It reminds them of what they are designed to protect--the helpless, the innocent. On the days my then-teenage son was having a more "teenagery" day, when I saw him on the couch, with a purring kitten in the crook of his arm, I knew his sweet disposition was still intact--it was just a bumpy day.

4. You just can't turn your back on the helpless. When her head got stuck in the cage bars, our African gray parrot, MacAuliffe (named after the Challenger astronaut, Krista MacAuliffe), fatally injured her neck and left wing. For 2 days we had her nestled in a shoe box, constantly petting her head and gently talking to her as she lived out her last hours. We couldn't let her sit in her cage alone, suffering--and walk away to enjoy our normal activities.

5. Caring for and cleaning up after pets teaches responsibility to our children. Yep, this is pretty obvious. Oh the times my husband and I have reminded our children to care for the pets! When our daughter had her lizard for 2 years, my husband had some stern conversations with her when he discovered she wasn't misting the habitat or putting in crickets. As a softee kind of mom, my heart would ache for her, but then I knew she needed to be reminded of the responsibility--that causing the death of an animal because you just didn't find time to feed them is not acceptable behavior. Tough lessons.

6. Just when you think you can give away all the

kittens in the litter . . . you can't!

When it came time to separate our 3 kittens this past fall--me, the long-ago pet disliker, couldn't do it. I was reminded of holocaust movies where siblings were ripped apart from each other's lives--I just envisioned driving away with one of the kittens to their new home, leaving behind the other two to search the house for him for weeks. My heart tore just thinking about it. So they chase, sleep, and live together--here with us, until they pass away.

7. Twist ties, hairspray caps, and the miniature trees from a tabletop Christmas village make good cat toys. Even if you aren't the biggest of pet fans, it's still fun to play flashlight games with them, save a big box for them to romp in, and dangle a twist tie on a string for them. You even get to a point where you go to toss out a little object, and you stop--"Hey, this would make a good cat toy." So, on our floor at this time is a shaving cream cap, a glitter chenille stick that once wrapped around a Christmas tree in our table top Christmas village, a fake mouse, a super ball, and a twist tie.

8. Animals are fairly smart. Our cat, Crash, can open the kitchen cabinet door where the bag of dried cat food is stored. No fooling. He puts his paw between the door and the facing of the cabinet and swings it open. Last summer one of the kittens managed to slide open the sliding screen door and let himself out.

Our African gray parrot used to talk all the time--not mimic, but say things in the appropriate context. The first thing she ever said was while my husband and I were in the kitchen preparing lunch, she said, "I wanna go out." This was a phrase we had never used and never tried to teach her.

When I would turn out the kitchen light at night before heading to bed, she'd say, "Night, Momma." If she saw me with my purse in my hand walking toward the garage, she would say, "Bye-byyyyyye" Prior to my daughter being potty trained, MacAuliffe would say, "Go upstairs, stinky." That's when I knew L needed changing.

We're pretty much limited to just the cats these days--I think the time of keeping every creature that graced our patio or side porch is over. In a way I miss those days, but maybe when grandchildren bless our lives, we'll break out the aquarium and warming lights.