In 2007, one day a sick and starving cat showed up on our back porch to get out of the rain. I've never seen such a scrawny little thing with such pitiful eyes. I had to feed him. At first he was afraid; but I keep the warm milk coming. I believe he was wild; but I began to pet him. He was so sick he couldn't run even if he wanted to. I tamed him, and I often wonder if I was the only person he ever trusted.
   Less than a year later, he was gone. Before church, he didn't show up for his food, and soon after, I found him laying under the blue tarp (which we covered the lawnmower with). It looked as though something had killed him. He couldn't have fought back, even if he had wanted to. At least, for a brief moment in his life, the old cat was loved.

View photos of Willoughby.