They say that brevity is the soul of both humorous and intelligent wit. Such being the case, I cannot claim to be witty, simply because I talk too much. But pure silence is ineffectual because there's only one result, silence. Verbal fitness, for want of a better phrase, is far more valuable than an amputated tongue; so, I intend to keep the length of these posts short, and their meaning clear. But since this is a changing world, and an obscure epic shares a shelf with a lucid anecdote, do not be surprised if I fall long of this intention.
As for dogwatches and cat tales: I have always admired a witty title. It is a summary and an ornament―which further proves that art can both signify and beautify. (Pooh-pooh to you, utilitarians). It is the same with this one. Look up "dogwatch". It will be good for you. It's a nautical term and Catholics are supposed to be nautical people.
The cat tale is rather an odd one. I recommend Aelian's On the Nature of Animals to your reading list. While it is neither scientific, nor necessarily accurate, it contains a wealth of myths and morals, cures, superstitions about and descriptions of animal behavior. One of these tales struck me.
The lion, when attacking a herd of cattle, will breath on the herd before it takes its solitary victim. The lion's breath signals his ownership of the herd to all other predators.
This should ring cathedral-worthy bells to anyone who has read The Chronicles of Narnia. Aslan's breath is a sign of those set apart, chosen for life in the spirit. The king will choose his stewards and call them by name. And while the devil also prowls like a roaring lion―as many a banished upstart will―he shall only devour the persistent strays. He can mark no one out for himself, but must be content with thievery.
The Lion of Judah dwarfs him in power and stature. No other king shall draw all people under his dominion. No other king could wander so far, yet never stray.
After all, he's not a tame Lion.
