Give Thanks Day 10: Chelsea

Today I'm thankful for my cat, Chelsea.  Yes, that's right.  I'm thankful for my cat.  Don't judge me.

She looks so thrilled.

Back in the day, I wanted a kitten like none other.  I read every. single. book I could get my hands on about cats and kittens.  I literally exhausted the library at my elementary school on cat books.  I had to check out ones I'd already read, I ran out of new ones.  So the day or so after I finished kindergarten, my parents loaded me and my brother up in the family van and off we trekked to meet a friend of my mom's.  This friend had a cat, Sneakers, who recently had a litter of kittens.  And yes, they were looking for homes.  We met the lady at a gas station and there she had two female kittens to choose from.  I immediately picked up the first one I could catch.  She had grey paws and was absolutely adorable.  Well, Grey Paws promptly bit/scratched me (it's possible it was just a hiss, but it didn't matter) and down she went.  I chose White Paws instead.  I held her in my lap on the way home.  I had especially picked a baby blanket that had belonged to me and tucked her into it so she would feel safe.  She whined the first week or so at night, so I slept on my floor (I had a loft bed which was kind of a no go for such a tiny kitty).  From the get go, I adored that little thing.  And little she was.  She was so tiny she fit under my dresser (not even two inches at the tallest point) and in the palm of my mom's hands.  She was a. d. o. r. a. b. l. e.

Now Chelsea went through quite a lot growing up with me.  She got bathed at arbitrary intervals.  She was periodically (okay quite often) subjected to wearing doll clothes.  I tried to walk her once in my neighborhood on a leash (needless to say that didn't go over so well).  It's no wonder that she's a crazy cat.  She once knocked over a miniature doll house; the roof fell clean off.  It's still in my basement.  

Elephant in the room moment: all this talk of dolls and dolls dresses and doll houses makes me sound like an incredibly girly individual.  Let me dispel these nasty rumors by emphasizing that it was a phase. A very dark time in my life, if you please.  Very sensitive.  

Ahem.  So in short, I've grown up with this cat.  I love her to death.  She's been given a number of nicknames from my friends over the years, most of them to the tune of "demon cat."  In her defense, Chelsea is a cranky old coot who is very set in her ways.  And in the people she likes.  Which most of the time is just Tapeworm.  Though every now and then she'll pretend she likes me too.  I suspect my big comfy bed has something to do with it though.  

What's not to love?

12 more days to Thanksgiving!

Signed,

RF