I've always liked cats and they seem to like me. When I was living on my family farm at 13-14 the barn cats even came up to me while avoiding everyone else (though one half-grown cat walked up and then climb my leg like it was a tree, though it seemed to understand my yowl as to not do that again...). And ever since I was a little girl I was a huge fan of the
Dorrie the Little Witch series and wanted a black cat like hers which I'd also named Gink, and to this day the desire remains with me.
I've even had some very interesting experiences with cats, though I don't feel like sharing at this time.
I used to feed outside cats (that is, they weren't mine) where I used to live, something that would tick my girlfriend at the time off because we'd argue about money (she spent so much of it) but I'd buy them cat food.
One day one of the outside toms (almost all black so one I thought of as a "potential Gink") came to my door and stumbled in. He'd never done that before, he was very suspicious and independent. I looked up his symptoms and realized he had antifreeze poisoning and I tried to get him to a vet stat, but it was the day before Thanksgiving and every single vet I called played stupid and wouldn't see him, even when they'd try to get me to set an appointment for next week and I'd say, "He'll be dead by then." And he was, he died that night around 2 AM IIRC. That was a key incident on changing how I perceived people.
Now I'm in a family with a skittish white cat that loves me.