Let us honor our holy furball

I was expecting to return to Washington this week but something real exciting happened back home in Waco. My cat, Spiro, threw up a furball. It wasn't just any furball. As I was bending over with a paper towel to clean the thing up, I realized that it somehow looked familiar.

I called my Daddy into my bedroom to examine the furball and darn if he didn't notice that it was the spitting image of the Holy Mother of God, the Virgin Mary breast-feeding the Baby Jesus.

Daddy picked up the Madonna and Child furball gingerly and set her into a velvet-lined jewel box for safe keeping. Since Easter's just around the corner, we figure the furball is a special gift from God.

Daddy told our pastor at the Ronald Reagan Memorial Baptist Church and pretty soon we had the whole congregation flocking to our home to worship the miraculous little furball. Somebody was mentioning his dog had dropped a turd with a resemblance to a crucifix but I thought that was just so inappropriate.

Anyway, for the last couple of days, people have been driving up from as far away as Oklahoma City to gaze upon our unique homage to the Virgin Mary. We had a special plexiglass case built for it. Regular folks can view the spiritual furball between noon and five. Mexicans are invited between six and seven.

Folks have been telling us to sell our gift from God on eBay since cheese sandwiches with the face of Christ fetch about $35,000. But before I'd sell my furball, I'd need a sign from God that it's okay. I think $75,000 would be a good sign.

The dean of my former school, the DeVry Evangelical Institute, has invited me to bring the furball to school and describe the miracle of its creation to the students. I've accepted the offer.

So I won't be entering anything in my diary until after Easter.

I hope President Bush doesn't do anything interesting while I'm away.