Theology cat, a conversion story

I used to hate cats. Now my pet is a daily reminder of God’s generosity.

Gentle reader,

This piece originally appeared on September 14, 2023 on Christianity Today, as “Amazing grace how sweet the meow, A conversion story,” and Dwight got his very own byline.

Dwight offers his thoughts (and makes theological mistakes) on Beth’s social media feeds, where he often shares #CATechesis (a word which means “teaching the faith”) when he’s not too busy helping with a writing deadline.

I’m happy to re-share the piece with you here.

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I’ve hated cats all my life. Well, maybe not all my life. My mom has a picture of me, maybe six years old, playing with kittens in my grandpa’s barn, and I remember begging to take that little furball home. But my mom hated cats, and I soon did too.

My husband’s family had a cat, and when we were dating, I shuddered whenever I visited. The creature was unbearably forward and gross. I was convinced the cat tried to kill me one night by sitting on my head while I slept, even though my husband insists she was just being cozy.

My thinking on felines held firm for about two decades. Our sweet dogs were all the pets I ever wanted, while cats, by contrast, were disgusting to me. They walked on tables with their little cat feet. They seemed mysterious and inscrutable.

I rolled all cats together with the evil Snowbell from E. B. White’s Stuart Little: “malevolent, self-absorbed, negative, obstinate, witty, bellicose, evil, loathsome, loquacious, testy, ingenious, narcissistic, kooky, eccentric, relentless, boorish, emotional, loud-mouthed and loco.”

Then our youngest child went full-court press for a pet cat. He sang their praises. Knowing my fears, he researched a cat species bred for their friendliness to both dogs and humans and then found a local veterinarian breeder who raises the things in her home.

His campaign came at an opportune time for him. We were post-COVID, post-lots-of-losses. His older siblings were moving into realms that aren’t yet for him, and I felt like he needed something. Maybe at that moment, I would have given him almost anything. So for the love of my son, I swallowed my apprehension, and we called the breeder and reserved a fluffsome kitten.

That’s the slow part of the story. As soon as I met Dwight (named by my son, for the character in the NBC sitcom The Office), I fell for him.

My love for my son had somewhat prepared me for the transition, but I was changed through my unexpected connection with the cat. I was converted. I became a cat person, in personal relationship with Dwight. (Dwight, of course, is not a person, but I have a personal relationship with him, as I am a person, and so my relationships are personal.)

My conversion to cats—or Dwight, more specifically—has informed my view of Christian conversion.