I stood at the sink washing out my paint brush. The self-critic in my head was giving me a stern lecture about taking in yet another homeless cat.

My Aunt had passed away a few months earlier and we were in the process of cleaning out her house. Between that and my other responsibilities, I felt like the weight of the world was on my shoulders.

The cat had been living in a friend's garage. She couldn't afford to take him to the vet, so I offered, thinking it would be a checkup, some shots, and we would find him a home.

But after meeting with the vet I realized what I had gotten into. He had numerous issues, the worst of which, his eye had been injured and was now infected and would need to be surgically removed.

Hence, the reason the critical voice was giving me a lecture: On top of everything else I was now responsible for this pitiful looking, malnutrition, one eyed cat wearing a blue plastic collar, now named Willy.

And Willy wasn't too happy about it all either. He was mad and liked to bite me when I tried to do anything to help him.

'I'll never be able to find him a home,' I thought.

Then, I looked down at the dirty old paint covered utility sink and there she was. An angel looking back at me.

She was just a weird arrangement of paint and drain, but that didn't diminish her message. She spoke loud and clear.

It's been years since Willy showed up here at my work. We never found him a home because we all fell in love with him and his quirky personality.

He's fat and happy and has adjusted very well to being an adorable spoiled one-eyed cat.

And, the angel is still in the sink.

Even though years of paint and water have washed over her, she's just sitting there to remind me that we are all angels sent here to look after one another.

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