For most of our marriage we have co-existed with at least one cat. Our last one, Buddy, died 5 years ago. We decided then to forego getting another animal. As much as we love cats, we were happy with that decision.
Our daughter and her family have 4 cats (!). One, Murray, is the alpha male. He doesn't tolerate other cats well. It created a stressful environment for all. Murray needs to be an only cat. He would prefer being pampered, spoiled, and admired above all others. Me, too.
Somewhat reluctantly, we agreed to take him in. It was definitely a rescue, but not of Murray. Our taking him rescued the 3 other cats. We just got him last night. He is still scared and traumatized by the change. He's in hiding.
My husband is the Pied Piper of cats. They all love him, and he loves them. I trust his judgment and approach to winning Murray over, which is to give the cat time and space. There is also some baby talk, treats, and petting. It's a start.
When we went to bed last night Murray was underneath. I was totally cognizant there were now three "people" in the house. It was a good feeling.