Recently, the time came to say goodbye to beautiful Prudie.

Prudie

The first meeting came while Sonja and Russ were on their honeymoon — someone had to feed their cats, and somehow that someone was me. Prudence introduced herself with a slap to the face. When picked up for a cuddle, she immediately lined up round two. This cat had been rescued from the alleys of Costa Mesa and came with the attitude to prove it. Having to fend for herself left marks — not just on her, but apparently on anyone who got too close too soon.

The Bully

Since Sonja and Russ’s cat Cleopatra was getting beaten up every day — poor Cleo — Prudie would stand guard near the feeding bowl, and whenever Cleopatra came near, she would get pounced on. So guess who came to the rescue? Yours truly.

Maxine and Mookie

This was already a big undertaking — two cats were already in residence: Maxine Mew and Mookie Mariano. They were civil with each other but never really interacted like family.

Mookie loved me so much that on a regular basis he would shower me with gifts. These gifts ranged from hummingbirds to rats, and one time he brought me a live rabbit. Mookie loved the outdoors, and for that reason the bathroom window was kept open so that when he cried to come in, I’d open the screen to let him in. This is when he lavished his gifts. How kind of him.

Maxine, on the other hand, was a needy cat — always looking for affection. Her purr could be heard from across the room. Strictly an indoor girl, she loved to sit on your lap and knead your chest.

The Adjustment

When the bully Prudie came into the picture, she quickly decided she would straighten everyone out. But petite, chubby Maxine held her ground, fought back, and put Prudie in her rightful place. Mookie, on the other hand, wanted nothing to do with an arrogant, puffed-up cat. He ran away. For days there were prayers for his return, his favorite food left out on the front porch as an offering.

After a hiatus of more than a month, Mike was watering the backyard when guess who made an appearance — Mookie Mariano came home. But he came back on his own terms. The girl cats respected his every move.

Last One Standing

Mike, who never wanted cats, was now the owner of three — and there was also a dog, Shadrach, to round out the household. As time passed, Mookie went on to a better place, followed by Maxine. Shadrach got along with Prudie well enough and managed to share part of the yard. When the time came to say goodbye to Shadrach, Prudie owned the house and property outright.

The Grandchildren

One of the biggest fears among the grandchildren was encountering Prudie lurking near the steps. She was vicious and showed no mercy. Going upstairs meant risking an imminent attack — and none were spared. So whenever the grandchildren came to visit, the first question was always, “Where’s Prudie?” As they got older, they welcomed the challenge and would go looking for her under the bed. Prudie never disappointed — she came out nails extended, ready to wound whoever dared approach. She was so sweet!

The Christmas Surprise

When it came time to put up the Christmas decorations, Prudie always found her spot — on the Nativity. She was well aware that cats are never mentioned in the Bible, and she was determined to correct that oversight. So, in her oversized body, she laid herself down in the manger.

This became a recurring tradition, and for the last several years of her life, she stood guard over the Holy Family.

The Decline

It started this year. Prudie was well into her twentieth year — a remarkable age for any cat. Her once beautifully groomed coat had gone matted from neglect, and it took patience and prayer just to attempt cutting out her dreadlocks. Then came the issue of the claws. She would allow only one cut at a time, once a week.

Blood was noticed around her water dish. The vet was told plainly: Prudie was well over twenty years old, and no one was going to invest in five hundred dollars’ worth of bloodwork to discover what was already evident. Kidney disease was the suspected culprit.

The Quality of Life Check

Dr. Louka — the best veterinarian in Orange County — suggested a “quality of life” examination. Through that, the source of the bleeding was discovered: Prudie’s claws had overgrown into her paws. Thank God she was relieved of that pain.

Kitchen Table

For the last three months, Prudie took over the breakfast table. She slept there and came down only to eat and relieve herself. At first it was fine — meals moved to the dining room, making it an everyday space rather than one saved only for special occasions.

But the house was beginning to smell of cat urine. Though she had two litter boxes, she kept missing and spilling onto the floor. Every effort was made to preserve her dignity — doggie pads were purchased — but before long the pad had to be changed every single time she used the box. And she had taken to sneaking into the living room and relieving herself on the newly purchased carpet.

The connection finally became clear. Prudie had claimed the kitchen table to get attention. She was declining, and this was her way of communicating. If she had a voice, this is what she would have said: “Mom, I’m sick — and I’m ready to go Home.”

Our Quality of Life

Suffering was happening right alongside Prudie. Two favorite rooms had become inaccessible. The deciding factor came down to the stench that had settled into the house. Cleaning, changing litter boxes, sanitizing the carpet, changing the pads — all of it was taking a toll on both of us. There is a quality of life to tend to as well, and Prudie was sending her messages, asking for help to ease her pain.

Saying Goodbye

The night before the appointment, she I held close and told how much she was loved. Our grandson Jacob was brave enough to come along to the appointment. Prudie refused to come out of her carrying case — instead she folded her paws inward and buried her sweet head. She knew. It was just as hard for her to say goodbye. Loving Prudie was a blessing.

My Prayer

Dear Lord, thank You for the scrappy, sharp-clawed, manger-stealing gift that was Prudie. May we always be good stewards of the creatures You place in our keeping — and may we never miss what they are trying to tell us. Amen.

The Hiker

So much planning is required for this outdoor pursuit. The subject here is the serious hiker — the kind who sets out on long paths that lead into the middle of nowhere. These individuals are deeply connected to nature and attuned to the moods of the wilderness. They know where to settle in and make camp for the night.

Recently, a beautiful conversation unfolded with an old friend — a man of considerable experience on the trail.

We touched on so many subjects, but of course, true to form, the conversation turned to his walk with God. His answers were sincere, and understanding his path gave real insight into how the Lord works.

Nature

The beauty of nature is captivating, and the Lord uses it to draw the hiker into a deeper understanding of that beauty — a beauty that ultimately points back to Him. God is ever-present, but for the hiker, He speaks in a different language.

Jesus The Hiker

We must take into account that our Lord withdrew from the crowds to be with His heavenly Father. This was not escape — it was communion. Prayer in solitude was the very heartbeat of His public ministry.

Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert to be tempted by the devil. This was no accident and no weakness. It was a deliberate entry into the wilderness — Spirit-led, purposeful, and redemptive. He fasted for forty days and forty nights, and afterwards He was hungry. Scriptures says He was hungry — and that hunger became the opening the enemy sought to exploit. (Matthew 4:1-2)

The Attacks

The first assault was directly connected with that prolonged fast. The tempter approached and said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command that these stones become loaves of bread.” (Matthew 4:3) Our Lord’s answer came swiftly, drawn not from power but from the Word of God itself: “One does not live by bread alone.” (Luke 4:4)

This is the pattern the enemy follows to this day: he does not attack when we are at our worst, but when we are at our most human — when the body aches, when the stomach is empty, when the spirit has poured itself out in prayer. When our Lord was hungry, St. Hilary teaches, “it was not because He was overcome by want of food, but because He abandoned His manhood to its nature. For the devil was to be conquered, not by God, but by the flesh.”

Public Ministry

With the call comes ministry.

Twenty years of teaching a Bible study was part of that call — and the hours spent in preparation opened my spiritual eyes to a deeper understanding of the Word. Daily Mass gently broke through boundaries I never realized existed. But it was the Eucharist that brought everything into full circle.

New Doors

Sitting idle would never take hold — because the moment one door closed on the Bible study, the Lord opened a new and more active calling.

Idleness weakens the soul. And this is precisely where the Enemy moves in. “You’re too old to be teaching classes. Who do you think you are? These kids want someone younger.”

Ignoring those false accusations took prayer.

But once the teaching began — preparing students for their First Holy Communion, guiding others through Confirmation — the mighty grace of God took control.

Social Media

Using social media to promote this blog has caused a drift from reality. Post, then scroll — and before long, an hour has slipped away. Time that belongs to prayer, quietly stolen.

I pray for those on Social Media who are given little time to live, the prayer is always the same: that they make peace with God, so they can continue the journey home.

Some of these individuals know nothing of God and are, sadly, walking toward the unknown. To them, this is the end. But to those whom God has chosen to witness to others — they know their final journey ends in the arms of Jesus.

God’s mercy rests on all the dying, and especially on those who have never called on Him. It may be the last minute — but God was there all along. We are the ones who step away. He never forsakes us.

The Lost Hiker

This past weekend, a hiker fell to his death attempting to photograph a waterfall. It is common news — some hikers grow disoriented and lose their way, while others fall from the side of a cliff and need rescuing.

These are experienced hikers. They purchase only the best protein bars to stay fueled, carry specialized water bottles unknown to most. Their backpacks speak of the journey — the distance to be covered, the height to be climbed, the summit where something like peace waits.

To those hikers who can fathom the creation of God — who are already serving Him, sharing the Good News with others — the trail has a name and a destination.

But the lost hiker who does not serve God, who carries no spiritual covering, is simply on a journey. One day, two roads will meet. And the lost hiker will have to choose.

They understand the beauty. But they have not yet grasped who created it. They have become their own religion, looking inward for answers that only God can give. Their hearts have not yet yielded to what God has in store for them.

But one day, they will look back — and see what was in front of them the entire time.

God is the answer. He is found in nature, yes. But He is calling for more than admiration. He is calling you to serve. He is calling you to belong to a community of believers — a place where you will be known, loved, and held accountable.

My Prayer

Thank You, Lord, for all the beauty that surrounds us. As we take this spiritual hike, may we never forget — You are with us every step of the way.

Amen.

The Trees

Nature plays an important role in our early morning walks. In Santa Barbara, the cool ocean breeze softly blows — a gentle reminder of His presence. The Pacific Ocean speaks in a powerful language. But at our home in Orange, the neighborhood is more stoic, the air a little thicker, and the sounds are mostly manmade.

When the city plants new trees, support poles are tied around them to help them grow strong. The city knows these immature trees must one day withstand the powerful Santa Ana winds, so until they are strong enough to stand on their own, the poles remain.

In many ways, these immature trees are like people who are still growing in spiritual knowledge. The Lord sends others to guide them — parents, grandparents, pastors, catechists, and friends — so that one day they can stand on their own.

The Role Of Parents

Parents represent the two poles holding the young tree. Together, they can help mold their child until that child is strong enough to withstand the world. Scripture is clear on this: “Train the young in the way they should go; even when old, they will not swerve from it” (Proverbs 22:6).

Rooted In God

Parents must regard their children as children of God and respect them as human persons. Showing themselves obedient to the will of the Father in heaven, they educate their children to fulfill God’s law. But no parent can do this on their own strength alone. The poles hold the tree — yet it is the soil, the sun, and the rain that give it life. So too, by incorporating prayer into everyday family experiences, parents teach their children by example — encouraging them to call upon God as their Father who loves and protects them, to look to Jesus their Savior who leads them to the Father, and to acknowledge the Holy Spirit who dwells within their hearts.

Standing Tall

The poles will not remain forever. One day the tree will stand tall on its own — rooted deep, branches wide, unshaken by the wind. That is the goal of every parent, and the quiet hope of every soul: to be so rooted in God that no storm can uproot what He has planted.

The Charlie Brown Trees

As the walk winds back toward home, three crepe myrtle trees come into view — planted years ago along the same stretch of sidewalk. Two of them stand tall and beautifully formed, their branches full and graceful. But between them stands a smaller, weaker tree — stunted, sparse, and struggling. What happened to the middle one? All three were planted at the same time, in the same soil, along the same street. For some unknown reason, the middle tree did not receive enough water.

When One Is Left Thirsty

The image is quietly heartbreaking — and instructive. In a family of three children, it is not uncommon for one child — perhaps more sensitive, perhaps more strong-willed — to slip through the cracks of proper formation. Sometimes a child is over-indulged, never given the loving discipline that builds character and wisdom. Sometimes a child is under-nurtured, left emotionally or spiritually dry. Either way, the damage is real.

Scripture does not soften this truth: “Whoever spares the rod hates the child, but whoever loves will apply discipline” (Proverbs 13:24). Discipline here is not harshness — it is the steady, faithful watering of a soul. A child who is never corrected, never challenged, never formed, never truly loved through difficulty — that child may grow tall in years but remain stunted in spirit, unable to make sound decisions or withstand the inevitable storms of life.

Every Tree Needs the Same Water

The lesson of the three crape myrtles is this: every child in a family deserves the same faithful attention, the same consistent love, the same firm and gentle formation. Favoritism — even when unintentional — leaves a mark. A parent’s calling is not simply to love all their children, but to love each one well, meeting them where they are, giving each what they need to grow.

The good news is that no tree is beyond recovery. With time, attention, and the grace of God, even the most stunted soul can begin to grow again. The Lord is patient with His garden — and He asks parents to be the same.

My Parable

In many ways, our lives are lived out in parables. We can’t fully understand God’s perfect nature, but He gives us beautiful hints of what heaven will be like. In life, I am a mature tree that provides shade when needed. I can withstand the storms that come my way and know that at every turn, a new season is at hand. Every season offers hope. When summer is about to scorch us, fall gently takes over. When winter takes its toll, spring is waiting for its glorious curtain call. We are all creatures of our Maker, waiting for the next great adventure of life.

Trusting  God

All of our stormy trials will come to an end. God allows us to suffer through them for a reason. Some of us must endure many difficult seasons because we have not yet grasped the life lesson being offered. Know that at all times, God has been — and always will be — in the midst of them. You are His child, and the love He has for you runs deeper than any root.

Jesus, I trust in You.

My Prayer

Lord, I thank You for all the beauty that surrounds us. May we look to nature to soothe our spirits. In the midst of our storms, send a cool breeze so that we may feel Your holy presence. Amen.