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It was a sad little fuzzball when he found it, wet through from the rain, so muddy it was impossible to know what colour is should be, until he got it home and cleaned it up - and what a fight that was!
Bucky only ment to clean it, feed it, then either take it to the shelter or even return it to the wild strees of Brooklyn, if it seemed eager to go.
Everything changed that night, when suddenly the little white cat wandered over to his spot on the floor, rubbed itself against his leg, turned around twice and curled up to sleep, making Bucky smile, in spite of himself; "Okay, so maybe you can stay a while longer."