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Two years after the death of my husband, I still pined, missing everything about him. I pondered adding a pet to my life, and my brother, visiting from New York, offered to go with me to the local animal rescue center.

Walking through the center introduced me to a massive choice of animals, and getting up close and personal with their boundless noises and behaviors overwhelmed me. My shaken confidence made me skeptical and fearful of getting a pet.

I spent all afternoon interacting with cats, taking pictures of them on my shoulders, in my arms, looking at them, petting them, but still not knowing whether or not I really wanted to be there.

I pet a cat in my lap while I scanned pictures I’d taken. There, in the background of every picture, a calico, isolated in a cage against the wall, stared into the camera, looking right at me. I asked the rescue worker to bring me the cat in the picture.

It was a female calico, isolated because of upper respiratory issues. She felt soft in my lap. Curled against my tummy, she tucked her front paws against her body, looked up at me, slowly blinked, and then put her head down on my leg. Quiet, and calm, she let me do whatever I wanted with her. Our unconditional love meshed at that moment.

I brought her home that day. It wasn’t a decision I consciously made, but I knew everything in my life would be better with this cat. Now five years later, I’ve never regretted a day Dusty has been here, and I now know how a pet becoming a new family member can change one’s life forever.