"…click…"

Virtually unnoticeable, the sound barely registered in my consciousness as I prepared gifts on Christmas eve. Working upstairs in the computer room, absorbed in my present wrapping and such, there came an ever so slight…nagging. Imperceptively, tape and paper were set aside and I idly stepped out into the hallway.

The setting before my eyes was frozen in a moment of time. The door to the cat haven room at the end of the hall was swung wide open. Chance, the probable Colonel Taz protégé stood motionless in the center of the room. Opposing him, positioned a mere step away, a defiant Chessie cat stood transfixed – back arched, hissing viciously, fangs bared, claws ready. The other cats had taken refuge on higher ground…on furnishings and a cat tree, but Chessie fears no dog. Silly cat.

Even before my brain fully comprehended the situation, my legs were automatically running toward the scene. Vocalizing loudly, even though I knew every husky becomes selectively deaf at such moments of confrontation, several unsuccessful attempts were made to distract the Siberian from imposing disaster.

Reaching the end of the hallway and the door to the cat room at the moment of impact, the two combatants engaged. Chance enacted what I call the "fox leap." It resembled the quick and near vertical pounce a fox enacts upon its prey. Chessie leapt to the fray, snarling and slashing as she abruptly swung under the dog’s jaw, her body curling up underneath him. Chance had her in his jaws! Diving across the center of the room, I slid a forearm into his mouth, betwixt cat and bicuspids, and ratcheted the cat loose. With the other hand, I semi- keelhauled the husky, but only to halt him. Raising him up would have made his underside a prime target for Chessie’s arsenal. Being a peacekeeper here involves protecting both sides.

Fortunately, Robbi heard my calls and heeded them far better than Chance. She rushed up the stairs and quickly took charge of the still excited husky while I closed the door and took inventory…one, two, three, four. Good. Still have four cats…all still in motion, although Chessie’s movement, now located at the top of the cat tree, about seven feet off the floor, consisted of bristling her fur, arching her back and ramrodding her tail straight up. Eyes as wide as saucers, her chest damp from dog slobber, she seemed well aware that she possessed no more of her nine lives for future forfeiture.

Despite a terrible allergy to cats, I resided in the room for a time, simply comforting and petting the cats.

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring…

Yes, that might well have been the case. What a disaster it would have been to have had four pets literally destroyed by a dog we rescued…and all on Christmas Eve.

Investigating the cause, it was uncovered that new talent had been discovered, or a fortuitous flirting of paw with knob. A couple years had passed since a new husky had achieved the talent for opening doors. Obi Wan, our Star Wars rescue husky, had perfected the technique and passed the skill on to Colonel Taz…who in turn taught others. But time had passed without incident and Robbi had urged re-installation of the knobs. Having to always use screwdrivers or the handles of pliers to open knob less doors had become second nature, though very annoying. The knobs had been back on the doors less than a month, now they were removed again. The cat door showed paw marks on both knob and door panel. Chance had his nose bloodied. Chessie got slimed and a received good scare.

One would look at it all…the lucky glancing blow to the knob that tripped open the door, the barely audible noise that captured my curiosity, the incredible timing that caused the opponents to hesitate just long enough for intervention, all of it could be easily claimed as a Chance Encounter. Yes, the pun is intended.

Proceeding downstairs to say thank you to Robbi and to explain Chance’s entry. Robbi noted that my first comment was "It was Providence that led me to check the hallway."

Providence . Not luck, irony, or happenstance. Why is it that when major things happen beyond our control or are unexplainable, we acknowledge Providence ? Why is Providence mentioned when something good or especially when something bad happens? When our lives are shaken beyond our pattern of days, we automatically see it. Heck, even giant insurance companies acknowledge "Acts of God". What is it, deep in our core, do we all realize at such moments?

In my own case, I know that nothing in this incident occurred by coincidence or arbitrarily or accidentally…or, dare I say it…by chance. It is in the simple and small terrifying moments such as this that I become more fully aware of something much grander in the scheme of things.

There is something greater than Fate or Destiny. There is a final controller of our lives – either central or peripheral as we may believe, but still very much there nonetheless. We have freedom to choose to ignore it, but things in life are not some chaotic cosmic crapshoot. Even in the lives of huskies, randomness is a mere veneer to a determined direction. Things happen for a purpose. Someone directs that purpose. We cannot see that vast horizon and our understanding lags, but there remains a reason and rationale. And we learn and grow both from and towards that purpose. Good or bad, and often beyond our mere mortal comprehension, there exists a definitive plan and a reasoning all superbly constructed and finely controlled by someone far beyond anything my menial mind will ever understand.

If we seriously considered that concept…took that last paragraph seriously in every aspect of our lives…would our perceptions, and ultimately, our priorities, be chosen differently?

Literally, nothing is left to Chance. And in this house, that term holds two meanings.

"God does not play dice with the universe." – Albert Einstein.

Scott, Robbi, TAZ,

Chance and four cats and the rest of the Siberian Cyclone…all intact.

Copyright -- Scott Ringwelski

All Rights Reserved