A Cat Confession

Lil' Ray has changed my mind.

I didn't always like cats. I loved them on the farm I grew up on. There was Wendy, the one-eyed calico cat, and McMurphy, who spent too much time outside one winter and lost the tip of an ear. One cat actually liked to swim in the water of the tank in which we cooled the cans of milk. We thought he was wacky.

Then years later, along came Thyroid. Friends of mine moved to London and didn't think Thyroid would survive quarantine. They couldn't find another willing adoptive family, so I took him. Or was it a her?

Thyroid ran away the first day I had him. Giving him up for lost after scouring the neighborhood for hours, I found him hanging from the screen door. We had other incidents -- I accidentally left him in a spare bedroom overnight; he peed on the base board right in front of me to show his displeasure. He brought in fleas; I flea bombed the house.

The worst came one morning in bed when I found him sprawled on my chest with his right paw raised over my nose. He was going to kill me.

Thyroid and I had to part ways when I moved, and he ended up with a nice older lady. I said my prayers for her.

I loved all of my sisters' cats -- Coach and Tigger, Speedy and especially Sylvester.

Fast forward to today. After looking at more than 500 photos of cats and kittens for our cutest cat contest, I have a new appreciation for them and the people who love them.

Like Lil' Ray. And Linda Wildasin of Lewes, her human companion.

Linda sent this note with her entry: "She was found in the woods as a newborn with her umbilical cord still attached. Her sibling had died. I bottle raised her. She is now 2 years old. She was about 6 weeks old in this picture. I'm her adopted Mother."

I think I will always be a "dog person," but I've found a new place in my heart for all of these special cats. Good luck to everyone in the contest.