"I've done that, too," said the friend -- " just handling the dirt."

"No," I said, "I got poison ivy from Dirt -- one of my cats!"

Dirt -- my cat rubs on everything -- rolls on everything. He sometimes looks like Pigpen in Peanuts, covered in dirt and straw.

He rubs up against the poison ivy at the end of my house. He rubs against me when I reach down to feed him.

I'm a goner.

But Dirt has a sweet disposition. I can't say that about Squirt, my other cat. He's sweet when it serves his purpose. Otherwise, he's not.

He jumped up on the table next to me the other day. I paid him no attention, so he laid his paw gently on my hand to get me to pet him.

"What a sweet old cat!" I thought.

When I reached to pet him, he bit me.

I knew what he wanted.

He was hungry -- so I fed him.

Love pays a price.

I thought he was sick. I had never heard anything like it.

Then I realized Squirt wasn't making the noise. It was the rat in his mouth that was screaming.

I grabbed up the broom to scare Squirt with his rat back out of the house. It worked. He dropped the rat and started for the door. The rat started for the living room.

"No!!!" I yelled.

For the first time ever, Squirt understood English. He grabbed the rat and headed out the door.

And just think -- I put up with all of this -- and still feed my cats the high- priced stuff!

Why?

Love pays a price.

And the price comes with the love.

Jesus taught us this -- and I've never known him to be wrong.

My cats have little interest in religion, and I wouldn't say they are Christian.

But they're mighty lucky I am!

Little Elian Gonzales says dolphins protected him in the water. What kind of world do we live in? We ask this question at the Saturday service this week -- 6:OQ p.m. -- St. Matthew.

Be in worship somewhere this weekend. And God bless!