Oscar arrived at my daughter’s house one afternoon. He plopped down in the middle of the driveway.  Resting on his back with feet relaxed and in the air, he did not plan to go anywhere.

At this time, she had already rescued five cats from the streets of Detroit.  She had not planned to add any more to the mix. Oscar had other plans.

Looking him over she could tell by the scratches and dried blood that he was in need of a trip to see the Vet. He did not run from her. He allowed her to examine his body. She could see that at one time he was a large handsome, snow-white, short-haired male cat.

She could also see that apparently, he had been on the streets for a little while. She looked at him and he looked at her. There were some unspoken words between them.

As it happened, each cat that she rescued had medical problems, some more serious than others. Oscar was in the category of more serious. His behavior showed her that he was so grateful to be cared for by her and to be accepted by the other cats.

As the weeks went by, he began to heal from his obvious wounds and he started to eat and gain weight. His true personality came into view. He was a silent warrior.

He agreed that enough was enough as far as more cats to take care of in the household. He would quickly chase away every cat doing a walk-by or attempting to travel through the yard. Suddenly, this became an important job, the center of his life.

He also protected the cats from one another and would intercept any arguments among them. They were a team! It was his duty. He could come in from a mission looking pretty beat up from time to time. A few days of rest, food, love, and attention – he was ready to protect the household again.