The Miracle of Smokey Joe.

Joe came into our lives as a hobo.
Homeless, scruffy, always on the move, very guarded and cautious around people, he really was a lost soul. He'd show up occasionally through the summer months, then disappear leaving us to wonder if we'd ever see him again.
Over time, he came to see us more often but would never let his guard down.
We have no idea of his age, but he's still relatively young and in remarkably good shape for the life he's lived. He's never carried any weight, all skin and bones.
Sylv was initially very hesitant about showing him any hospitality. Knowing nothing about him, it seemed unwise to be overly welcoming. I saw him differently.
To me he was running from pillar to post, looking for a meal and knowing he had to find some shelter for the night. But there was more to Joe.
Perhaps I'm a sucker for the underdog but I saw someone looking for safety and a place to call home. I began to leave food out for him and he found it.
He'd want to hang out with us around the campfire but somehow just couldn't find the courage, always hanging back in the shadows where he could quickly vanish if he saw a threat.

His hair is the dullest smoke grey you will ever see, devoid of any other color. He is a living ghost.
Eyes of stunning yellow, he can disappear in a second.
He would sing his lonesome song at all hours of the day and night, unseen. When I heard him I would talk to him, as a friend and someone he could trust. He began to respond.
We would sit outside the cabin, he at a safe distance with the fall leaves dropping in the chill air, perhaps both of us knowing the clock was ticking and Joe was running out of time.
He would usually respond to my questions, telling me in his own way what I already knew. He had nowhere left to run and that the brutal cold of winter would likely be his demise.
Then came a miracle.
As I walked out of the cabin one morning, instead of vanishing as usual, he stood there on the deck, eyes locked on me as if gauging my response.
I sat down on the deck and we talked. The spell of fear was broken.
Within a week he was a regular around the yard, now becoming a target for our aging and deaf German Sheppard "Rex" to chase. Joe was never in any danger, Rex merely wanted to show he still had it in him to chase the intruders away.
And then we touched. I looked down one day and there he was. I reached down and touched the softest fur imaginable. The rest is history.
As winter locked it grip on his new home, Joe has become my best friend and we talk all day long as I go about my work, he on my shoulders or at least by my side.
I put a heater in our little workshop and cutting a cat door allowed Joe to move in without hesitation.
Sylv maintains he has A.D.D. but he certainly has an addiction to heat. Left to his own devices, he would set himself on fire by climbing onto a heater.
He still has an intermittent appetite and we offer him a very good palette from which to choose but he is safe and warm. Sylv has noticed there are no mice coming into the cabin since Joe arrived, so any concerns about his mysterious past have been dismissed.
Even Rex and Joe have become the best of friends.
Joe has found a home and a family to love him.
And that is the Miracle of Smokey Joe.