All is well in Christopher Willett's world.
That's because every night, Willett, 38, goes to bed with six of his cats. The seventh, Henry, sleeps close by, near enough to see the rest of his family. Henry can't navigate the bed safely.

"I met him in the shelter," Willett said of his special cat. "I thought it was a toxicity case, that it might be poison, but it turned out not to be that.

"I picked him up, and he began to purr."

Young Henry had a neurological disorder — cerebella hypoplasia — that meant he lacked motor control. "I asked what it meant, and the vet said, 'it means he needs love and patience.' Honestly, if you think about it, those are the only two things we have to give away."

Henry wasn't put to sleep — he went home with Willett, who cut short his hours as a hairstylist at Lotus Beauty to make sure Henry had a fighting chance to live and thrive. First, Willett set up a small, padded, confined space with a litter box so Henry would be safe. "I'd work six hours and then I'd check on him and engage with the other cats," Willett said. "When he learned to drink water, that was my breakthrough."

Until then, Willett would hold Henry's head and body steady. Without that help, the cat would submerge his entire head in the water because he couldn't control his motions. Slowly, Henry gained control until Willett's hand was his only steadying influence. The little cat, found in a trash bin, wouldn't quit.

"If I had an iota of his determination and optimism," said Willett, "I don't know what would be possible."

The rescue of Henry is just one example of Willett's passion for improving the lives of animals, writes Jacqueline Antonius, owner of Lotus Beauty. She and another co-worker, Terre Wood, nominated Willett as one person who makes a difference. "Animals speak to his soul and animal cruelty is something he simply can't understand. We truly believe Christopher Willett is a 'compassionate one who makes a difference.' "

He certainly made a difference for Henry, who recently took his first steps on all fours. "Now, he's completely independent," Willett said, although he's hoping to find another kitten with a similar neurological disorder so that Henry has a companion who is more his speed.

But Willett goes beyond rescuing one animal at a time — he lives his love for animals and teaches by example.

"His enthusiasm is infectious," Wood said. "You can't help but be affected."

His love for animals began as a child in Santa Fe. He and his parents lived up Old Taos Highway, and Willett was able to walk to elementary school at Carlos Gilbert. The family had three dogs (Markie, Kirsten and Chester) and one cat (Beaux). He later lived in Washington state and Texas, but returned to Santa Fe to work as a hairstylist, as he put it, "at the beginning of the new millennium."

He began volunteering at the clinic of the Santa Fe Animal Shelter. "I had moved back to Santa Fe and wanted to make sure I met people who were like-minded," Willett said. "They asked, 'how do you feel about working in the clinic?' I figured, 'I'll try it. If I pass out in a pool of vomit, I'll know it's not for me.' "

The fainting spell never came, and Willett became a regular volunteer at the shelter. For a few years, he took a break, but is back volunteering again. "The experience in volunteering at the animal shelter clinic helped me to simultaneously overcome and dissolve a lot of fears," he said. "I was no longer squeamish. I was no longer scared of being bitten. I was no longer scared of discharge. Seeing animals in their most vulnerable state did nothing but expand my desire to make sure they were all OK."

Kate Rindy, former director of the shelter who now lives in Massachusetts, remembers Willett's volunteer efforts well. "I don't remember Christopher talking as much as I remember him doing — helping when we needed help, being there to do whatever was needed," Rindy wrote in an e-mail message.

"Christopher can tell you about his love for animals," Rindy wrote. "Those of us who know him witnessed that love over and over again."

It's a love that has moved Willett to adopt an entirely vegan lifestyle — he eats no meat, eggs or dairy, and doesn't wear leather or wool. He knows the choice isn't easy. "Meat is just so convenient," he said. "If vegan meals, plant-based meals, were made convenient, more people would eat them." (For those interested in making a switch, Willett recommends reading the book, Skinny Bitch, by Rory Freedman and Kim Barnouin.)

He became a vegan after watching a video on the treatment of animals in factory farms. "I didn't taper off," Willett said. "I made the transition in one night. It was difficult." Now, however, he likes to point out that a vegan meal is much more than beans and rice and offers a rich and varied diet.

The broader passion for animal rights, however, is something "I grew into. I am sympathetic to human special interests, but animals can't talk, animals can't vote. Animals have no representatives except for humans."

His example helped move Antonius to ensure all the products at her salon also are vegan. "He has opened up my eyes," said Antonius. "He lives it. He's true. He's made us more conscious. I can look at a label and know what's in it. You have to have integrity everywhere."

In 2007, Willett was honored for his work with animals with a Milagro award as the Humane Citizen from Animal Protection of New Mexico. He's an activist on a number of levels — saving a pig he saw run over in the street in 2006 and driving it to Arizona for its new life, working with Henry to open his world, but also pushing for laws such as California's Proposition 2, which improves conditions for animals on factory farms.

"Being in the clinic and seeing abused animals, injured animals, is provocative," Willett said. "You look at an animal in a medical situation, it's the equivalent of being kidnapped by space aliens. There's no dialogue. You can't describe your symptoms."

For those animals, people like Willett are there to speak up. As he put it, "All of us have it in us to NOT look the other way."