I've always been a dog person. Dogs have spunk and humor. They're straightforward and exciting. I wonder at all the years I lived without dogs when I was a young adult: how did I stand it?

But now a cat has come creeping into my heart. And into my house. Frack was my brother in law's cat. Although I've visited my brother in law many times I had never really gotten a good look at Frack until he suddenly became part of the family. He always hid under Tom's bed when we visited, and ventured out only far enough for us to see his pointy little ears and big green eyes.

Frack is small and sleek, with shiny black fur that seems to stand up on end in an electric kind of way. He has white socks on, and a splash of white on his chest. His tail is a bit crooked-or at least it seems like that when he curls it around your finger.

Frack is quiet except when he purrs so loudly that it seems like an engine has been started. And except for the 3 hours of loud, plaintive meowing that he did on the car ride from his home to ours.

We didn't expect to become Frack's family. My husband Bob's younger brother Tom collapsed and died of a massive heart attack in mid-December. We were shocked and grief stricken. And we were busy: since Tom was a bachelor we found ourselves caught between grief and the administration of Tom's affairs for several weeks.

Frack was one of those administrative problems. Tom loved Frack tremendously, and although Frack is 14, he is in great health, having been lovingly cared for by Tom. At the wake I chatted up Frack, mentioning that Tom's cat needed a home. I fully expected to find a willing taker, but when I volunteered that Frack was 14 the interested parties turned me down. The next day was the funeral, and we gathered for lunch to share fond memories and funny stories about this man who loved to joke around was a friend and mentor to many people. As we drove to Tom's apartment Julia, my animal loving daughter told me that Frack was going home with us. No one had come forward, and we had run out of time. I argued that our three dogs might pose a threat to the cat's longevity. And Robert protested that his allergy to cats meant he'd be sneezing and coughing whenever he came home from college.

It was silly to argue. Of course we'd take Tom's best friend home with us. We'd figure out how to make it work later.

Since Frack wouldn't come out from under the bed we had to use a towel to get him into the carry crate. So we literally didn't see Frack (although he heard him all the way home) until we let him out of the crate in a room we designated as his new home.

Once the cat was out of the crate it may have taken 5 or 10 minutes for us all to fall in love. Frack is friendly and sweet, soft and ingratiating. He waits for us to come visit him in his room, starting his engine the minute we pet him. He's elegant and unassuming, polite and patient. Even Robert is willing to get a runny nose in exchange for the pleasure of a short visit. Julia visits all the time, and watches TV with Frack every day.

But no one is getting more benefit from Frack than Bob. The sudden loss of his brother has been just a tiny bit mitigated by the presence of Frack. It's like having a piece of Tommy with us all the time, a reminder of his generous spirit and his love of life. We are all now officially cat lovers. Thank you, Tommy.