Pastor Derek and I witnessed this cat single-handedly lifting the back wheels of this car off a pinned orphan. We tried to get his name, but all he would say is “Just doing my job.” Bless you, tabby. Bless you.

This is Little Smokey – one of the first pals I made on moving into the neighbourhood. I discovered him as a young gent, frolicking with a discarded sock dangerously close to oncoming traffic. We came to an agreement that day: he would no longer play daredevil games and I would turn a blind eye to the ever-dwindling squirrel population.

Guest pastor Derek met this lovely lady on Euclid Street recently. I haven’t seen a conversion this heartfelt in all my years as a street minister. Not that I’m jealous. More pics after the jump.

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A recent trip down to Toronto’s Harbourfront netted me an opportunity to commune with one of that area’s park-dwelling strays. His hedonistic days of sniffing the tailpipes of cars and raiding the wild catnip patches of the Music Garden are thankfully all behind him now.

This mother/son cat combo lives in the fertile regions of  Bloorcourt. Mom here is clearly “cramming for the finals” as it were, but deathbed conversion is still a conversion.

This timid fellow haunts the driveways of Bloorcourt. Since this picture was taken, his posture has improved significantly.

I met Smokey here on Campbell Avenuewhen he had already reached the ripe old age of 17. He and I whiled away many a pleasant moment waiting for my adjunct pastor to be done with his day job. He was killed at age 19 when an enthusiastic Chocolate Lab mistook him for a squirrel. Smokey now spends his days flapping around on angel wings and barfing on labs from the clouds.