If I’m sick, the rest of my family will steer clear and let me sleep, but not my cat. She’ll sit on my pillow and gently knead my head, purring loudly as though she alone can drive the illness away. My cat even looks at me differently when I’m sick, like she sees right through me and straight to the illness beneath my skin, like she’s some fierce guardian angel there to battle on my behalf with The Evil Flu or The Dreaded Sinus Infection. It’s both stinking cute and incredibly comforting. The love we have for animals—and our animal friends have for us—is a beautiful thing and, I’d argue, a biblical call. Who’s to say God doesn’t want us to love our animal neighbors just as we do fellow humans?
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