Read Online Chicken Soup for the Cat & Dog Lover's Soul by Jack Canfield - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jack Canfield
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came to the quay not long ago, I watched as he unfurled his trailing feathers and actually lifted himself off the ground. He pumped his long, weathered wings, and slowly made it to a roost to sleep for the night.
We’re a threesome of old fishermen. A sightless dog, a flightless bird and an old man who’s having the time of his life.
Mike Lipstock
GARFIELD © 1996 Paws, Inc. Reprinted with permission of UNIVERSAL PRESS SYNDICATE. All rights reserved.
Sister Seraphim’s Deal with God
Y e shall not possess any beast, my dear sisters, except only a cat.
Ancrene Riwle (“Nun’s Rule,” c. 1200)
Mother Superior wrung her hands. “Sister Seraphim, you know full good and well that a convent is not a refuge for every stray cat.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“One mouser per convent is quite enough.”
“Yes, Mother.” The diminutive Russian Orthodox nun bowed her head, more to conceal a grin than to convey contrition.
At that moment, a voice in the hallway murmured, “Oh! The sweet precious babies. Please Sister Seraphim, the mama must have another saucer of milk.”
The diminutive Russian Orthodox nun slipped unnoticed out of the room.
Mother Superior shook her finger at empty air. “And just last week we found the kitchen coffer empty because you took the money to purchase two ragged kitties from little boys, who were unable to care for them.” Mother added, “And Sister, how many times must I remind you, you are not allowed to raid the refrigerator for meat for the cats.”
Sister Seraphim returned to the lecture scene. “Yes Mother, but when I was but a child, I made a deal with God.”
“Sister Seraphim,” Mother said with long-suffering patience, “We do not make deals with God!”
“I do,” Sister said serenely. “I vowed early in life to take care of all living creatures who came my way so long as God provided the means.”
Mother Superior sighed as she watched the sisters file into Sister Seraphim’s room to coo and pet the newest addition to Sister Seraphim’s collection of waifs—Grisette and her three newborn white balls of fluff.
For Sister Seraphim, cats had spirits and every one had to have a name. She rescued Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego (named after the men in the Old Testament who survived the fiery furnace) from the burning heat of the summer sun. The duo hiding behind the nunnery received the Biblical names of Luke and Eli. Mary Magdalene was christened after she waited at a well for Sister.
And then there was Pandora, the born troublemaker. Pandora believed in the virtue of awakening Christian nuns at the crack of dawn. At first she tried to pry Sister’s eyes open with her paw. Soon the mere presence of Pandora’s paw on Sister Seraphim’s face was enough to roust the sister out of bed. But that wasn’t the worst of Pandora, as Sister Seraphim found out one Sunday after services, when Mother Superior called her over.
Mother Superior stood with her arms folded. “That cat is impossible. Come see what she has done to the convent bathroom.”
Sister Seraphim’s eyes widened with horror at the destruction. The haughty Pandora was sitting on the window sill, licking her dainty paws.
Sister asked sternly, “What have you to say for yourself?” But Pandora’s attitude only said, “See how I have excelled at bathroom transgressions. Pulled down all the curtains and towels. Chewed on the toothbrush bristles. Sharpened my claws on the toilet paper and then shredded it into confetti. One good swipe broke all the pretty bottles and knocked over tin cans. Then I mixed up the powder, vitamins, and cough syrup and rolled in the mess.”
Mother Superior continued, “Why just this morning after being ousted from the chapel, again, Pandora actually had the impudence to flick her tail at His Most Holy Reverence the Bishop.”
Suppressing a giggle, Sister Seraphim admitted, “Yes, Pandora is incorrigible, but if I don’t love her, who will?”
Mother Superior looked at her
We’re a threesome of old fishermen. A sightless dog, a flightless bird and an old man who’s having the time of his life.
Mike Lipstock
GARFIELD © 1996 Paws, Inc. Reprinted with permission of UNIVERSAL PRESS SYNDICATE. All rights reserved.
Sister Seraphim’s Deal with God
Y e shall not possess any beast, my dear sisters, except only a cat.
Ancrene Riwle (“Nun’s Rule,” c. 1200)
Mother Superior wrung her hands. “Sister Seraphim, you know full good and well that a convent is not a refuge for every stray cat.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“One mouser per convent is quite enough.”
“Yes, Mother.” The diminutive Russian Orthodox nun bowed her head, more to conceal a grin than to convey contrition.
At that moment, a voice in the hallway murmured, “Oh! The sweet precious babies. Please Sister Seraphim, the mama must have another saucer of milk.”
The diminutive Russian Orthodox nun slipped unnoticed out of the room.
Mother Superior shook her finger at empty air. “And just last week we found the kitchen coffer empty because you took the money to purchase two ragged kitties from little boys, who were unable to care for them.” Mother added, “And Sister, how many times must I remind you, you are not allowed to raid the refrigerator for meat for the cats.”
Sister Seraphim returned to the lecture scene. “Yes Mother, but when I was but a child, I made a deal with God.”
“Sister Seraphim,” Mother said with long-suffering patience, “We do not make deals with God!”
“I do,” Sister said serenely. “I vowed early in life to take care of all living creatures who came my way so long as God provided the means.”
Mother Superior sighed as she watched the sisters file into Sister Seraphim’s room to coo and pet the newest addition to Sister Seraphim’s collection of waifs—Grisette and her three newborn white balls of fluff.
For Sister Seraphim, cats had spirits and every one had to have a name. She rescued Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego (named after the men in the Old Testament who survived the fiery furnace) from the burning heat of the summer sun. The duo hiding behind the nunnery received the Biblical names of Luke and Eli. Mary Magdalene was christened after she waited at a well for Sister.
And then there was Pandora, the born troublemaker. Pandora believed in the virtue of awakening Christian nuns at the crack of dawn. At first she tried to pry Sister’s eyes open with her paw. Soon the mere presence of Pandora’s paw on Sister Seraphim’s face was enough to roust the sister out of bed. But that wasn’t the worst of Pandora, as Sister Seraphim found out one Sunday after services, when Mother Superior called her over.
Mother Superior stood with her arms folded. “That cat is impossible. Come see what she has done to the convent bathroom.”
Sister Seraphim’s eyes widened with horror at the destruction. The haughty Pandora was sitting on the window sill, licking her dainty paws.
Sister asked sternly, “What have you to say for yourself?” But Pandora’s attitude only said, “See how I have excelled at bathroom transgressions. Pulled down all the curtains and towels. Chewed on the toothbrush bristles. Sharpened my claws on the toilet paper and then shredded it into confetti. One good swipe broke all the pretty bottles and knocked over tin cans. Then I mixed up the powder, vitamins, and cough syrup and rolled in the mess.”
Mother Superior continued, “Why just this morning after being ousted from the chapel, again, Pandora actually had the impudence to flick her tail at His Most Holy Reverence the Bishop.”
Suppressing a giggle, Sister Seraphim admitted, “Yes, Pandora is incorrigible, but if I don’t love her, who will?”
Mother Superior looked at her
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