My husband, Reg, and I are both softies when it comes to nature. We feel sorry for all the wildlife -- large and small -- that calls our neck of the woods home, especially during our often-harsh Prairie winters. So we feed the deer all winter long, and we feed the birds, the chipmunks and the squirrels all year round.

But when the little gray cat first appeared in our world, we tried to be tough. We were already nurturing the needs of our 17-year-old dying cat, Buzz, sick from the effects of cancer and kidney failure.

And our other cat, then 16-year-old Beaver, although not noticeably ill, had a heart murmur and a rather unwelcoming disposition to boot. So there just wasn't room for this new kid on the block who was hell-bent on moving into our abode.

We chased him off the deck, day after day, gently tapping his rear end with the broom to show that he wasn't welcome. But it had little effect. He kept coming back, each day more tenaciously vying for our affection.

The turning point happened the day I was entertaining a group of friends on the deck for lunch. Our uninvited visitor showed up, turning on the charm -- full steam ahead. "Isn't he cute?" said one of them.

"And I can't believe how much he looks like Buzz," said another. It was true. The resemblance to our own dear, Buzz, was uncanny. A gray tabby, with soft short hair and warm eyes that shone straight through to your heart.

"You know he's chosen you, Doreen," said a third. It certainly seemed that way. If I was in the kitchen, he'd be standing on the BBQ, looking in the window and meowing at me.

If Reg and I were sitting in the living room, he'd be perched atop the air-conditioner or deck table, determined to catch our glimpse. He was not about to get discouraged, or let any obstacle stand in his way. But we saw things differently.

We'd been a three-cat household until the previous year, when we'd lost Buzz's sister, Goldie, to cancer. We thought we'd eventually either be cat-free and travel more freely -- or maybe get a dog.

The cats had been mine before marrying Reg. He'd always been a dog person, but knew that the way to a woman’s heart is to love her cats. So he cuddled up to the furry felines and the cats soon grew on him. And now, he was becoming increasingly fond of the little youngster who'd shown up on our deck.

I put a notice up at our local vet clinic to see if anyone would claim him. I called the Humane Society to see if he was reported lost. He had no collar and no tattoo. It was likely that someone had dumped him. He was at the age of  puberty, when the cost of neutering and vaccines would become a factor.

The little guy probably had the misfortune of being placed into a family who liked kittens but not cats. Did you know that nearly 4,000 stray cats entered the Winnipeg Humane Society last year? It’s too bad that so many people don’t take pet ownership more seriously.

How on earth did he find us – and how long had he been casing the place out? These things we weren’t sure of, but one thing was for sure -- make that two things. He loved people, and he especially seemed to love us ... page 2.

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