That brings me back to Vector.
Upon joining my family, Vector’s post-traumatic stray disorder was severe. His first days were spent curled up, trembling and hand-fed, his eyes alternating between frightened, darting glances and a stupefied shell-shocked stare.
Gradually, as Vector began to believe he had finally found a forever family to protect and love him, his eyes started to sparkle. His metamorphosis into a frolicking, licking, nub-wagging companion is among the most remarkable, gratifying experiences of our lives. There's a spiritual side to health, and the carefree joy in Vector’s eyes — a luster that had either faded or, more likely, never before shone — is a vivid example.
Even with his health issues — as we've learned, the exception rather than the rule — Vector has given us so much more than we’ve given him, and made us repeat rescuers for life.