I am a dog person through and through. I grew up always having a dog, a companion, a friend, and playmate. My husband and I lost our favorite dog last summer, and are currently without a dog for the first time in our near-30-year marriage. We are in a temporary home right now, but when we get back to our real home, getting a dog will be first thing on the list!

I sometimes wonder where my daughter came from. I don’t know how it happened, but she is a cat person. All her life she wanted a cat, and, as staunch dog lovers, her dad and I always put our foot down when she asked for one.

When our daughter was in high school, she and I began volunteering at our local Humane Society. We would go one afternoon each week, and while I assisted with greeting, desk work, walking dogs, and whatever other tasks were on tap for the day, she spent her time in cat socialization. She played with cats. She took her homework into the cat rooms where they could climb all over her while she studied. She cleaned out kitty condos. If it was cat related she didn’t need to be asked twice!

One day she voiced her desire to be an adult, out on her own, just so she could have her very own cat. That’s when I realized just how important owning a cat had become to her. For her 17th birthday, I paid the cat adoption fee, and she went to the Humane Society, not to work, but to pick out her feline companion. This was no doubt the best gift she had ever received!

I still wouldn’t call myself a cat person. I haven’t switched my allegiance, but I will admit, my daughter chose well and I’ve grown quite fond of Me-Meow.

From Day 1 of having a cat in the house, we began to surmise the origins and the “whys” of many cat phrases!

“Curiosity killed the cat!” Me-meow always thought she had to be in the middle of EVERYTHING! While my husband was working from home, her favorite spot was right in the middle of the computer keyboard. She was always quite keen on inserting her nose into every nook and cranny and cabinet and closet in the house.

“It’s like herding cats!” Try getting the cat into the cat carrier and you’ll have a clear (and possibly painful) picture of the meaning of this one!

“Who let the cat out of the bag?”

This was my favorite, as it was always a hoot to watch Me-Meow playing in a shopping bag left on the floor for her. She would creep up to it ”on little cat feet” (Thank you, Carl Sandburg!), nose around to see what, if anything, was in the bag (There’s the curiosity, again.), and then steal in like a “cat burglar” to hang out for awhile. Sometimes she would jump around chasing some imaginary plaything, with obvious enjoyment of the noises the bag made with each movement. Eventually she would dive out of the bag, only to get her head stuck in the bag handles, thus requiring a bit of assistance to escape the bag’s clutches.

One suggestion of the origin of this particular phrase involves a bit of trickery in the marketplace. A merchant, while the customer was focused elsewhere, would replace the pig the customer had purchased with a cat. The secret deception would be revealed when the customer arrived at home and let the cat out of the bag. Thus, to “let the cat out of the bag” is to reveal a secret.

The phrase came to my mind today, but in quite a different context. I saw a post on Facebook that I’ve seen a few times over the last few weeks. I’m touched every time I see and hear this precious father/son duo. But today for some reason, only a few seconds into the video, I had a veritable explosion of emotion! I can’t tell you exactly what I was feeling or thinking – just that tears came, followed by totally uncontrollable sobbing. It reminded me of Me-Meow bursting out of the shopping bag whenever the game became old.

My first instinct was to grab my emotional “cat” by the scruff of the neck and stuff it back in the bag. I’m learning, however, that usually the best way to deal with my tears is to own them and try to process them, discover their origin, and allow them to do their work of cleansing and healing.

I came up with some possible causes for my outburst:

• I’ve been grieving for my dad more than usual this week, so it’s possible that the whole father/child thing turned the faucet on.

• The song “Oceans” was very meaningful to me through a season of difficult changes a few years ago. Perhaps the pains of that period of my life were triggered.

• It could also be that the surge of emotion was due to some fears I’m working through right now in pursuit of a lifelong dream.

I honestly don’t know whether one of these is the culprit, or if they’re all jumbled in a great big ball that’s going to take some time to unravel. I only know that I’m tired of stuffing thoughts and emotions back in the bag – leaving them unprocessed, unacknowledged, ready to spring out again at another time.

For me it was tears. This time. It could just as easily be anger, frustration, fear, envy, or any of a myriad of emotions we would consider negative, unwanted, unwelcome.

Of course, there is a time and place for everything, and the middle of the grocery store or during a workplace conference call are probably not the best places to process a surge of unexpected emotion. But rather than stuff the unwelcome flow back in the bag, next time I think I’ll tie a leash on it, keeping it in sight, and take it with me to a safe time and place for closer examination. Perhaps I’ll get to know myself, and my Creator, a bit better.

Is it simply me? What’s your typical response when emotions barge their way in without invitation? Do you take time to consider what they are telling you? Or do you stuff them into the nether regions of your favorite (or not-so-favorite) bag, hoping they stay hidden from consciousness? What steps are you willing to take toward emotional health?