I don't like cats.
You can come at me with all sort of arguments as to why I should like cats... I don't buy the soft, fluffy, cute thing. I never used to have a problem with them - there was even a time where I would let them do that creepy wrap themselves around your legs things and stroke you as they walk past. But no more. When I was about 14, a cat jumped out from behind a bush down a road on my walk home from school and literally missed my face by about a centimetre. That was it. Cats and I no longer got on.
My daughter, however, does not seem to have inherited this dislike I have. In fact, she is the opposite. She adores cats; if she sees one, she shouts "da-za" (Katze) and runs to the patio doors. When she bangs and hurts herself and cries inconsolably, I know all I have to do is take her outside to see Maggie, our neighbour's cat who sleeps in the birdhouse on sunny days, and all will be well again.
So I'm being taught a lesson by my daughter. When God made the world, he said it was all "good". I have to assume cats were included in that and so, much as I dislike these feline fiends, I must admit that they are creatures made by the creator God, and therefore, even though I'm not their biggest fan, I probably shouldn't loathe them in the way I am prone to do...