Chuck, the rascal cat, loves to travel. But, as you can well guess, he’s not on the road 365 days a year. So, here’s a peek into Chucky’s life when he’s not risking his life and doing all those crazy things we love him for.
How Chuck Came to Be:
First things first: I like to say that I adopted Chuck, but the truth is—he adopted me. He was rescued from a field near a paint ball factory. From the first day he was rough and ready—a bit feral—but I still remember the first time I saw him. He was bouncing up and down, doing everything he could to get my attention. His twin sister, Ella, stood quietly by his side. Chuck and Ella were the first orange and white cats I’d ever brought home, and I wasn’t at all prepared for their bigger than life personalities. Here, I’d like to give a big shout out to Tabby’s Place—a cat rescue shelter—that housed Chucky and his twin and to Karina, who rescued him and tried to knock some civilization into him.
His Older Brother, Jack
I had help when I brought the rascal home. Jack, my tuxedo cat, the alpha male of the house, made sure that Chucky minded his manners. If he did something that Jack didn’t like, he would nip the tip of Chucky’s ear, and then look up at me, as if to say—I had to do it, Mom. I immediately gave Jack carte blanche to do anything within reason. Chucky was wild in his younger years. He’d climb Christmas trees and cat body slam any feline out of the way if it meant he could get at their food. He also had to go outside everyday—rain or shine. Like the mailman. He didn’t care if his paws got wet or muddy. Let’s just say he got nipped a lot by Jack.
His Twin Sister, Ella
Ella also kept Chucky in line. One day Chucky went outside and disappeared for about an hour. We learned later that he’d discovered a catmint garden a few houses down and couldn’t resist raiding the garden and getting high. When he finally returned home, tipsy but happy as can be, before I could say a word, Ella marched over, gave him a good sniff, let loose with a few choice words, and smacked him in the face. Chucky ducked his head, but he didn’t say a word. He knew he deserved whatever Ella dished out. Truth was he hated disappointing her and kept a watchful eye on her always. But the two of them together—what mischief they could get up to.
His Older Sister, Molly
Molly was a very petite cat, part Ragdoll, who Chucky insisted on playing with, even when she wasn’t interested. He’d stalk her from room to room, and then when no one was looking, he’d leap on top of her. We’d hear a louder than loud meow coming from the upstairs landing. Chucky’s weight on top of her practically squished the life out of her. Needless to say, Molly forever greeted Chucky with a hiss, which he couldn’t quite understand. All he wanted to do was play.
You Can’t Go Home Again
I’d like to say that the four cats lived happily ever after, but as time went on . . . Molly went over the rainbow bridge first, then Ella, and then just recently Jack.
It’s hard to know what to say to the one that stays behind. We, of course, gave Chuck extra hugs and kisses and lots of treats. We tried to keep the routine. I even became a cat for a day.
Finally, we're ready to talk about the future.
“Chuck, Mom and Dad want to bring home a brother for you.”
Chucky makes a soft meow. (It's only recently that he realizes that Jack isn’t coming back home. That he didn’t just go to the hospital. This time. That Jack actually walked across that rainbow bridge.)
“What do you think, Chuck?”
Chuck looks up thoughtfully from his snack.
“We’re going on Monday to hang out with him for a while. Do you want to come?”
As I ask the question, I'm wondering if it's a good idea to bring Chuck with us. After all, there's a certain protocol to bringing a new cat into a household. We have our eye on a little boy, three years old, who's been rescued from a laboratory that did testing on animals. He's bound to be shy and will need some time to adjust to his new surroundings. And Chuck will still need to feel that he's loved and not being replaced by the new kid on the block.
Before he has a chance to say anything, I interject, "We'll tell you all about him when we get home."
To be continued . . .
