I retired from the medical milieu in New York City and moved to the BWCA area of northern Minnesota in 2001. I had adopted several “hard luck” pussycats in New York and brought every one of them to Minnesota via van. They were fascinated with the complete change of living in the country. All have passed on by now, but I have a flock of Minnesotans (the new generation), many of whom I adopted as strays.

Marco is my only real stray now, as the others were older when I got them and passed on naturally after a few years. Marco is a handsome black and white male, whom you couldn’t get near when we first met, but after patient coaxing and feeding high quality food to heal a terrible wound he had on his neck, I eventually won him over. Today, he prefers to stay on his own turf, and at night when I read in bed he naps on me or by me. He’s a beautiful boy, and sweet as sugar.

I am always on the lookout for strays, for no cat will ever come to me without getting help and good food. I suppose I could go to a shelter and adopt, but it would upset me terribly; I would want to bring them all home, and I have 13 felines as it is. I’ll continue to watch for strays around here because our winters are rough up this way—only 10 wooded miles from the Canadian border.

Bless you people for all the good you’re doing for cats. As for my friends doing good work for cats, I have one—Amber Schluter—who recently placed no less than 65 kittens. Most of my cats were originally from her and her sister, two remarkable animal lovers.