Brother is my newest of three rescued cats. He came home a week ago.

I've recently gotten hooked on volunteering at Chicago's Harmony House, a wonderful no kill / low cage facility that is also very near my house. When I saw Brother Justin and his sister Rita Sue last fall I promised myself that I'd adopt them as soon as I could make it work. They were majestic animals at the shelter, and just the right age to put up with my buddy Karl.

Sadly Rita Sue died unexpectedly, and I hated to think of Brother left at the shelter without his sister. Having long ago justified the adoption, I figured out a way to bring him home without too much disruption. And, if I was wrong about avoiding disruption - which I was - his time at the shelter had taught him to get along with other cats, even other cats who didn't like him.

Brother is a sad but wonderful example of why the shelter is a great place to look for a pet. His previous owner had adopted him and his sister as kittens, and then returned them as young adults, insisting even as the shelter staff held them and petted them that these cats weren't affectionate enough. Had this story ended entirely happily I could blithely say her loss, my gain, but what is clear already is that Brother is as fine a cat as I could hope to own.