men are dogs, women are cats

First things first, I would like to clarify some bloggerel from earlier this week before I launch a ground-breaking new theory on you all.

A couple of days ago I blogged about targeted advertising. Having re-read the blog I realise that it could be interpreted as a dig at events like ‘Back to Church Sunday’. It’s not intended like that. I would like EVERY Sunday to be Back to Church Sunday, but my point was that if all we do is focus on those who are overtly interested or at least ‘warm’ with the good news of Jesus there will be a lot of people we exclude.

I fear that fear is the reason why we do that. It’s easier and safer to bring someone who is interested to church. (Hallelujah when they do come!) But, to blatantly misquote Jesus – he did not come for the interested alone, but came for the disinterested, disillusioned, disappointed and antagonistic as well. And inviting these people to church may not be the best place to start. For some, it may be, but for others we need to meet them where they are – in their homes, at work, or even up a a sycamore tree. It’s a tried and tested way of helping people to discover that God loves them and wants to know them.

Now that I have clarified that (or muddied the waters further) I would like to share a concept on which my brain was working yesterday while I had a day off in lieu of last Saturday (explains why yesterday only had a joke). It may revolutionise the way we understand gender differences and there may be a book and a documentary series in it at some stage. Let me set the scene:

As well as relaxing, catching up on some telly programmes I had not had chance to watch, reading and whacking some balls at the driving range I also did some jobs around the house. I did some clothes washing, tidied the kitchen, hung the clothes out to dry, cooked tea and a couple of other bits and pieces.

As I was hanging out the second load of washing I was feeling pleased with myself. I thought, ‘won’t Sally be pleased with me’. Then I thought, ‘I bet she never ever thinks that when she does the washing.’

So I developed a theory. Never mind men and women coming from mars and venus. Men are dogs, women are cats.

Men as dogs:

We expect to be told that we have done a good job when we have done something that women do without any recognition: “well done, good boy”

We are fascinated by balls and will chase them at every opportunity: football, cricket, rugby, golf…

We have our favourite places to sit and fall asleep (although we don’t usually have to turn around three times first)

We find toilet humour funny: what do dogs sniff?

We are delighted at simple things (tail wags) like a cup of coffee, football results (when they go our way), jokes, and expect everyone else to share our happiness (tail wags harder)

Women as cats:

They are in charge

Because of this first similarity I dare not go any further!

Be blessed, be a blessing

>wagging my spiritual tail

>It was too late to blog by the time I got home yesterday so I thought I would give you a break. I am starting to feel an obligation to any of you that are regular readers and don’t want to let you down, but sometimes it just ain’t gonna happen…


I have a card in my study with a picture of a dog on it and the caption, “Dear Lord, please make me the kind of person my dog thinks I am.” I don’t have a dog, but when I was a teenager we had a lovely yellow labrador who showed the unconditional acceptance and devotion to which I think this card is alluding. She was always pleased to see me, could often sense sadness and come and give a dog equivalent of a hug (nuzzled with a wet nose) and loved spending time with me.

If only I demonstrated that same attitude in my relationship with Jesus (not the nuzzling with a wet nose). I know that when I spend less time with him in prayer and conversation I feel heavier (spiritually, not physically). I know that I do not always sense what Jesus is feeling or wanting to say about a situation. I am not always delighted by Jesus. Sometimes following him is a matter of will and discipline rather than a well of joy bubbling over within me (usually the same times when I have spent less time in prayer and conversation with Jesus). Sometimes spending time with him is squeezed by other people or the demands of ministry.

“Lord, please make me the kind of person you think I am.”

Ooooooh – that could be incredible. Jesus does not see me as a guilty sinner but as a forgiven friend. He does not see me as someone who always has to be joyful, but as someone with whom HE wants to spend time. It’s his choice!

Dog and Cat diaries:

The Dog’s Diary

  8:00 am – Dog food! My favourite thing!
  9:30 am – A car ride! My favourite thing!
  9:40 am – A walk in the park! My favourite thing!
10:30 am – Got rubbed and petted! My favourite thing!
12:00 pm – Ate a bone! My favourite thing!
  1:00 pm – Played in the yard! My favourite thing!
  3:00 pm – Wagged my tail! My favourite thing!
  5:00 pm – Dinner! My favourite thing!
  7:00 pm – Got to play ball! My favourite thing!
  8:00 pm – Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favourite thing!
11:00 pm – Sleeping on the bed! My favourite thing!

The Cat’s Diary

Day 983 of My Captivity
My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.

The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet. Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it clearly demonstrates my capabilities. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a “good little hunter” I am. Swines!

There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to the power of “allergies.” I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.

Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow, but at the top of the stairs.

I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released, and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded. The bird must be an informant. I observe him communicate with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now …

reflecting on an awesome photo

What do you make of this picture? I can’t remember where I found it online (so if it was from your website, thank you and I hope you don’t mind me using it here). The picture fascinates me for many reasons:

Reason the first: how disciplined must those dogs be?! All of them look ready to pounce on the cat but are holding back. I wish I had that sort of self-control.

Reason the second: how brave is that cat? It seems completely unphased by the horde of onlooking canines. It is happily going about its business regardless of the potential for disaster. How often do I hold back because of fear rather than stepping out in faith?

Reason the third: is it a genuine picture? Did this really happen or has some genius created the picture with the aid of clever software and a diabolical sense of humour? Reasons I am unsure about the genuineness are that the cat is walking through a puddle (or is it a poodle?) and they usually avoid water; and there are no ripples in the puddle. But are there times when I am looking at things the wrong way, or making assumptions that are untrue?

Reason the fourth: every time I look at it I smile. The potential for captions, what happened next or the back story behind the picture is fantastic. Can I be the cause of making other people smile – not because of my failings but because I bring joy to them?

Reason the fifth: sometimes I may be feeling like the cat and sometimes I may be like one of the dogs. In either case the picture reminds me to think of how people feel if they are the dogs or cats in those circumstances.

No joke today, just the picture to enjoy!