The Chivalrous Cat

By: Carlos Castro

I heard a story very like the following in one of my first seminary classes.

Once upon a time, there was a very old king who, upon seeing himself in the mirror and discovering many wrinkles, gray hair, and one leg that moved more slowly than the other, foresaw his death.

“You must choose your heir,” his trusted assistant told him, while she put his false teeth into his mouth.

“I am afraid to do that,” replied the king, “because I have two twin sons. One is wise and prudent, but weak, and the other is reckless, adventurous, and somewhat foolish.”

After thinking about it for a few days, the king called his two sons to him. He gave them 30 coins, and commissioned them to answer, after consulting wise men and reflecting deeply: Can any man become a knight?

The first son spent every coin on long trips, which ended in the palaces of recognized kings, high and inaccessible towers where wise men lived who smoked long pipes to think better, forests where very old beings became intelligent under anonymity, and enormous rooms full of books so old that he had to read them with the help of immaculate tweezers and giant glasses that amplified the scribblings of prominent thinkers and the hieroglyphs of the dead kings of the desert.

The other son calculated the deadline that the king had given them and dedicated himself to drinking and buying rounds in the busiest bar in town. And although, in his drunken state, he asked one or another evildoer about the subject of knights, the truth is that he did not make much effort, because he could not think of how to find the answer to such a question. It was clear: the king would leave the throne to the one who answered with the best answer. Yet this son knew, in the atmosphere of the party, the happy music, the game of chance, and the hustle and bustle of the drinks coming and going, that he had little chance of becoming king.

He had declared himself defeated when he saw that a gray cat with a few black stripes and a bushy mustache approached him, walked onto the bar, and poured him a glass of wine.

The man opened his eyes.

“I must be too drunk,” he said to himself. But to his surprise, he saw the cat coming and going in the next few minutes, serving wine to everyone the bartender pointed out.

“Is what I’m seeing real?” he asked. “Does your cat serve the wine?”

“Yes, he does,” the bartender replied naturally.

“And how does he do it?” asked the king’s son.

“Well, it wasn’t easy at first, but with training, any cat can become a bartender.”

The young man nodded his head, while he emptied the glass into his mouth.

He offered the bartender his last coins in exchange for the cat and ran straight to the palace.

The counselors, some invited kings, the highest officials, and the maidens (in dresses that suffocated them) had gathered. Everyone lined up in front of the king.

When the young man arrived, they were silent. His twin brother had delivered his response, during a masterful speech and two hundred pages written side by side, which justified his argument.

The profligate sibling walked across the black and white checkered floor until he reached the throne.

“Well?” the king questioned. “Did you find your answer?”

“I found it, oh father, and I have here the evidence that proves it. They are not big words, nor a rehearsed speech. For you, I have a cat to back up my statement.”

The boy then clapped his hands twice. Everyone exclaimed when they saw the gray cat running in a straight line, climbing the steps that led to the king, opening the cork, pouring the glass, and presenting it before his majesty with a bow that he could not have learned in the discredited cantina.

“If a cat can become a bartender,” the young man said while everyone watched the cat serve a drink, “any man can become a gentleman.”

The king stood up ecstatic. Everyone applauded. The audience went crazy, the trumpets sounded, and the maidens forgot how tight their dresses were.

They were still celebrating when a little mouse crossed the room.

The cat took off his black vest from which the bar’s shield still hung, ruffled his mustache, threw the glass on the floor and, out of pure instinct, chased the small animal until its heart stopped with one blow.

A man can make many changes in his life. He can learn to be decent and polite. He can greet his neighbors in the morning and clap his hands at exactly the right time during a church service. But sooner or later his instincts will take over.

Only God can transform our hearts. Only God can bring lasting change from the inside out.

*Carlos Castro has a Masters in Psychotherapy and is an athlete and author. Together with his INMERSO team, they motivate and train evangelists and church planters in Mexico.