I had a friend in her fifties who got placed in an ugly situation a while back. She needed surgery to remove an intestinal tumor, and fast, but then that would mean no money available for rent. She chose the surgery, then came to my door, asking for a place to stay, pretty much after the hospital released her.

She stayed for about a year. She never paid rent and I never asked for it. She was occasionally willing to help with chores around the house unaided, but she had a bad back and, again, I didn’t ask for compensation.

The assumption was always that, once she could find a job or could become eligible for Social Security Disability (“Whichever comes first” was her joke), she would save up to find a place of her own and leave.

Occasionally, things got complicated. She took on a cat without asking first, who didn’t get along with my two cats. (My female took one swipe at him, though, and she found him a new home fast.) Her younger of two daughters suddenly arrived on my doorstep as well for a short time when a semester in Brazil (she was on full scholarship in college) went wrong and she had health issues, then boredom, with which to deal. (Neither boded well down the road for my household.)

Things got a little messy near the end, but she found a job working as an instructor for Cabela’s and moved out a month later.