Lessons Learned From a Cat's Infected Eye (bonus post!)

My first bonus post from the foreign land of Paraguay actually isn't about Paraguay at all—it's about a cat. 

There are a lot of cats here. My friend has been counting all the strays that we come across on walks and in the car, and so far the number is 45. By the end of the summer, I expect it to be over a hundred. 

They aren't just strays, either; any households have cats or dogs of their own. Edy's aunt and uncle have two and a half cats in their house—an indoor cat named Streaky, an outdoor cat named Samsung, and Samsung's mom who hangs around the house sometimes. Her name is Scrawny, since, well, she didn't eat too well when she was a stray. 

Soon after we arrived in Paraguay, Samsung had caught a cold from Scrawny. And for some reason, the cold gave him an eye infection. Don't ask me how that works—I am by no means a veterinarian, and know next to nothing about animals—but his eye looked pretty bad. 

Well, we took him to the vet and got him some eye drops. But cats don't like having things put in their eyes. Neither do humans, to be fair, but at least we have the self-control to not rub it out as soon as we possibly can. 

Samsung doesn't have that self-control. And since the drops need to stay inside for his eye to heal, well... we had to get him a cone collar. 

Yes, the infamous "cone of shame."

Of course, he hated it. Who wouldn't hate having a cone strapped around your neck that you can't take off? 

This cone of shame feels like a metaphor to me. (A lot of things feel like a metaphor to me.) 

So, here are some lessons I've learned from Samsung's infected eye, and how we're making it heal.

 

Healing might hurt.

Animals are different than humans. 

Humans have this concept of the "future." How doing something unpleasant now might help you later on, and how living in the moment isn't everything.

Animals? Less so. They live in the moment: getting the food they need to survive, going where they please, and fighting whoever they want to. And they learn from the past: if a thing didn't work out too well last time they tried it, they won't do it again. 

Delayed gratification is a valuable skill, though. Samsung's "cone of shame" isn't comfortable, and gets in the way of doing a lot of the things he likes. But he's going to be much happier once his eye isn't swollen shut. 

He doesn't know this, of course. He's only thinking, "Why did my humans put this awful thing around my neck?" 

Sometimes healing hurts. Sometimes things get worse before they get better. 

But they do get better, and it's worth the momentary discomfort. 

I think this is something we could all benefit from realizing. Even though we're much more self-controlled than cats are, we fall into the short-term thinking trap far too often. 

Consider a man with a drug addiction. He knows that it'll destroy him if it continues, and he understands the future consequences. 

But that long-term knowledge doesn't compare with the short-term rush he gets. So he continues, just one more time, just one more... until he's reached the point of no return. 

Healing can hurt. Withdrawal symptoms hurt. A loss of momentary pleasure hurts. 

But we need to take the long-term view, and remember that greater pleasure awaits us if we endure now. 

Discipline hurts. And since God is a loving father, he puts trials in our life to help us grow in him—and though they do bear fruit, the fruit sometimes takes a long time. 

Remember the fruit. Endure. Trust that God knows what he's doing, and that pain can be the path to healing.

 

Self-control brings rewards.

Samsung's cone of shame fell off this morning, and he was very happy to be free of it. When we cleaned his eye, we decided not to put it back on—if and only if he doesn't scratch his eye. 

If Samsung has the self-control not to mess with the medicine, the cone isn't necessary. He's really happy right now, but that happiness will only last for as long as he controls himself. 

To apply it to us humans, we need to control ourselves too. We need to take a look at our actions and how they're going to play out in the long run. And if we see a problem, we need to change.

I once heard a story from a mom about her two sons. They both enjoyed playing video games, and they wanted to play them for hours on end. But only one of them actually did play for hours and hours—the other set limits for himself, and made sure to divide his time between video games, chores, homework, and family time. 

The parents ended up giving the first boy limits on his screen time. Now, instead of hours and hours, he could only play video games for one hour—because if he was left to his own devices, pun intended, he would never get any work done.

The other brother, though, could still play as much as he wanted. He'd proven that he did have self-control, and was trustworthy to set his own limits. 

Which one do you want? Do you want others to make rules to keep you in check, or do you want to be regarded as trustworthy? 

I know I'd much rather control myself. It takes more work, sure, but it'll pay off in the long run. 

 

Hopefully, Samsung's eye will heal, and he'll be back to his normal hyperactive self again. But for now, he'll be fine as long as he doesn't rub out the medicine. 

Healing can be painful. And it's hard to resist the temptation to scratch the itch and get that momentary satisfaction. 

But it's so worth it. 

What areas of your life are you trying to ignore? Where do you need to resist the temptation to scratch your eye? 

God has given us self-awareness for a reason. Use it. Don't think only of momentary pleasure, but take the long view.

Live for eternity, not for the present day. 

If you do, you will reap a reward. Even if the reward doesn't come in the moment.