God’s creation is filled with humor. Just take a look at a kangaroo with a baby peeking out of her pouch. Spend time with a parrot that seems to be conversing with you. Keep an eye out for dogs that get a guilty expression when they destroy a slipper.  

And be sure to gaze out your own windows, where nature often is putting on a show orchestrated by God for your viewing pleasure. It might be a scintillating  sunset, a fall tree in full regalia or a hawk trying to fit into a birdbath.   

Over the years I’ve had many animals that brought me joy. My parakeet would tiptoe across my face when I was lying down for a nap and give me tiny kisses. One hamster chewed his way out of the cardboard box and wandered around the car on the way home from the pet store.  

But none of these can hold a candle to Funky. The first thing I did when I moved off-campus in college was head to the animal shelter. I had already chosen the name, so all I needed was the cat. I came home with a gray-and-white tomcat, who became my companion for the next 13 years.  

In the mornings, Funky would entertain me by performing a tight-rope act upon the curtain rods. He also would climb out the kitchen window of my apartment, creep down the tree and peer into the downstairs neighbor’s window. He was no fool. He knew many people on the block kept a special food dish just for him.  

When I put up my first Christmas tree, he toppled it in the middle of the night. When I baked biscotti, he sat in the kitchen, purring rapturously.  

Oddly enough, this cat taught me some valuable lessons. For example, down-home wisdom says cats cannot be taught tricks. However, with a little patience and a steady supply of treats, I taught Funky to sit on command and to jump up on a chair. So much for untested assumptions.  

There was one terrifying time, when he disappeared for 10 days. I searched the neighborhood to no avail and then grieved because I was sure he was dead. To my surprise, Funky showed up on day 11, looking scruffier than usual. I could imagine him saying, “Don’t give up on folks so easily!”  

He also taught me that if you are vigilant about observing God’s creation, you will always find something to laugh about. After graduate school, I rented an apartment in Atlanta on the top floor of a sprawling, old house. The landlord, who lived downstairs, had a sheepdog named Happy.  

One day I glanced out the window and saw the dog galloping madly around the backyard with Funky straddling his back, claws dug deeply into Happy’s flesh. The dog howled and yipped, as Funky rode him around triumphantly. A few minutes later, Funky jumped off, Happy ran into the house—and I stood there, wondering if anyone else in the whole world had witnessed this event.  

If I hadn’t gazed out the window at that exact moment, I would have missed this scene, which became one of my fondest memories. This event taught me to remain vigilant to the world around me because we never know what scenario God is orchestrating for us. It also taught me that God’s creation reveals one of his defining characteristics. He definitely has a sense of humor.