The latest spirit in our frayed family sneaked in on little cat paws.  Pokey was rescued from an abandoned barn, and was two-plus pounds of fluff.  The idea was to keep him at the farm where my daughter boarded a horse, but all was not well with Pokey.

Or me, either. At 59, I had lost my senior human resources job, was helping a dying aunt who had no children, and looking for my next job.  Not exactly the perfect conditions to welcome another lost soul — but who can resist a tiny cat with six toes, a white bib and serious medical issues?

Three years later, Pokey has gained ten pounds, despite seizures, a low thyroid and significant plumbing problems.  Daily, we shoot meds down his little kitty gullet.  Consequently, he is relatively healthy, but vulnerable.  Thanks to our vet, some feline specialists have consulted free of charge, as our cat is such a rare case. As one vet mused, “What if the Hokey Pokey is really what it’s all about?”

— Georgian from Wallingford, CT