In 2010, I was run over by a tractor trailer and almost killed. My girlfriend (now my wife) often would load me up and take me places just to get out of the house. Once such occassion, she suggested going to the local petsmart to look at the kittens they had for adoption.
I was still in a wheelchair, so getting me in to the little room with the adoptions was no easy feat. And in the last cage, at the very bottom, tucked away in the corner and trying not to draw attention to herself was this little cutie. The moment they let me hold her, she made herself right at home and started purring so loud she was practically whining.
Needless to say, she came back home with me. Over the course of my recovery, Chessie (short for Cheshire) was at my side all the time, and the moment I sat or lay down, she’d be in my lap, cuddling and purring. She loved running her claws over my cast, chasing the dog around, sitting on whatever human was close enough, and gazing out the window at the birds. One more than one occasion, she got her claws stuck in the window screen, so I’d come home and she was standing there asleep, one paw stuck in the window.
Chessie is pickier now about who she loves on, and spends most of her time in the bedroom. Every now and then, she’ll sneak into the living room, then turn and flee if someone makes eye contact. She’s gotten a little chubby over the years, but she is still my sweet kitty.