My dearest furriest Chip seems to be a little under the weather. He's coughing up a lot - 3 times yesterday, and only one was a hairball. Plus he's been an antagonistic little bastard as of late. He is terrorizing the dog, and the other kitties non stop. Something is pissing him off - literally. He has now taken to peeing in the bath tub. At least it's not on the carpet, or something difficult to clean, but still, I would like to go a day or two without having to clean the tub. Just gross. And yet I am worried. He is either right ripped about Possum's impending arrival, which wouldn't surprise me - I am his, all his, and he makes sure everyone knows it. And he is demanding about it. He climbs right on top of me, pushing everyone else out of the way, including Hubby and Babybear, and takes his love when he wants it. If I go away for a few days, he refuses to speak to me when I get home. I get the cat cheeks treatment extraordinaire. Nothing like a face full of cat cheeks to make a girl feel loved, ya know? Chip is about 6 now. Not old, but not young. He's my baby, and I know in the grand scheme, he is most likely the next to leave me (Earl is only 1, Herminone is 3 this year, and Benny is 1). *SOB* He's gonna be a hard one to lose.

I know all pets are hard to lose, but there are some you develop that certain attachment to. I've cried when every pet I've had, or my Grandparents had, has passed, but some are harder then others:

Little Kitty, aka LK - she was my Grandparents cat, and I loved her. She is the only one that had the patience to let me dress her up in doll clothes, put her in a baby carriage, and treat her like a rag doll when I was little. Pictures of me "playing" with her go back to when I was 2. She's the first cat I remember, and she lived to be 20 some odd year's old. She finally passed when I was 15, and I sobbed. She was a good old girl.

Gopher - the origins of "Gopheroo", which is a cross between my Gopher, and my love of PolkaRoo (watch The Polka Dot Door - PolkaRoo was *COOL*!). Gopher was a purebred Australian Terrier. Her breeding was impeccable, in fact, her gramps is used as the example of the breed in the American Book of Dogs. However, my Gophie was the runt of the litter, and she had an ear that wouldn't quite stand up right, thus making her flawed, and no good for showing, or breeding, as she may throw a pup with the same "defect". Gopher's mother's owners were good friends with my Mom, and Gopher kinda adopted us. We would visit, and she would follow us everywhere, she was so sweet. The owners were moving to BC, and they left two week prior to their Ontario house closing. We agreed to watch their house for them for that two week period, and they decided to bless us with the Goph. Her registered name was "Just a Bonney Wee Lass", and they had called her "Homely". She was homely with that ear! We got her home, and she had a habit of burrowing under the couch cushions, and popping up on the other side like a groundhog, or gopher, so she was named Gopher. Goph came home with us when I was 5. She was my girl My best friend. She kept me safe at night (kinda, biggest wuss of a dog you ever met), and she gave me love when I needed it. She waited at the end of the drive for the bus to drop me off after school. She slept in my bed every night, and hid under my chair at every meal so I could slip her food. She was my copilot growing up. When she was 9, and I 14, she became terribly ill - she had an infection, and her whole body had gone toxic. The vet said even with surgery, her chances of survival were very slim, my Mom was going to have her put down and I begged the vet, begged her with teary eyes to please, please do the surgery, I would pay the $500 myself on installments, please, please, please. The vet took pity on me, and did the surgery, and took $75 from me every two weeks (I worked at a donut shop on weekends - it's didn't pay well) until the surgery and drug bills were paid. And Gopher was fine! She pulled through like trooper, she was one tough dog. She grew older and older, and gradually she became deaf. And maybe a little senile. When I was 20 and she was 15, I was walking home one afternoon, and she was on the lawn. She saw me from the distance, and got up to run my way. But I was on the other side of the street. She never stopped. The cars honked, and she was called, but she couldn't hear them and she just came running. The car ran right over her, both front and back tires. And she was so tiny. I ran into the middle of the road, and I held her, and within a few moments she was gone. She was such a beautiful dog, and she taught me so much growing up. At least it ended quickly, and I got to hold her while she died.

And of course there was Mel. Some of you may remember Mel - he passed after I had started keeping this blog. He was my first pet that I went out, purchased myself, fed myself, owned 100% myself, not a family pet, but MINE. He was a beautiful long haired Tabby. Pet love of my life. He had a horrid seizure, and by the time I got him to a vet, she said he wouldn't survive long enough to get the test results, and he was a mess, so I agreed to have him put to sleep. Again, I got to hold him as I said good bye. Man that hurt.

Now, I have seen a lot of pets come and go - my Grandparents alone have said good bye to 3 dogs, and 12 cats in my lifetime. My immediate family has lost 4 dogs, and 4 cats. And I loved and miss them all terribly. But of those, the above three stand out as my closests fur friends.

And then we have Chip. I got him in Winter 04 to keep Mel company. We had a Golden Retriver, and I moved into a very small house - it was all I could afford for me and Babybear at the time, so I gave the Golden to my Mom - they lived on a HUGE piece of property in Missouri - my house had a front lawn that was approx. 4 foot by 4 foot. Just not fair to the dog. She is much happier where she is now. BUT, Mel was miserable. I would head out the door to go to work and Mel would hop in my car, as if to say he refused to be left alone. He and the dog were literally born two weeks apart, and were fast friend, haivng lived together for rougly 6 - 7 years at that point. So I looked for a pet to adopt. Chip was being fostered by a kind woman, who was allergic to cats. She had gone on an investigation with the Humane Society for the inhumane treatment of a number of dogs and a few horses, and while they were seizing the dogs and horses, they found this poor cat living in horrid conditions as well. SO they took him too. This lady was fostering the dogs that had been taken, and she took that cat too. But, after a few months, she couldn't handle the allergies any more, and he seemed adjusted, so they adopted him. The people who took him didn't even have him two weeks and they sent him back. He was adopted a second time, but again, he was unwanted, and tossed outside. He was picked up by the humane society weeks later, and they knew it was him, as they had microchipped him (they do that to all animals they rescue here). I learned of him, went and met him, and feel in love. He came home with me that night. And he was an asshole. I hated him. He was the biggest jerk of a cat I had ever met. He terrorized Mel, wrote the house off, and was just a nasty cat. I couldn't give him back, because adoption is not something I take lightly. I made a commitment to give him a home, I needed to stand by that. But I *HATED* him. I loathed him. He was awful. Then he got out. It was night, I had gotten home, and was carrying a sleeping Babybear in from the car, and Chip slipped past me at the door. I got Babybear in the house, and went back to look for the cat. He is BLACK from tip of his nose to tip of his tail. It was dark. He was nowhere to be seen. Fine then, I thought. Be that way, I really don't care. 9 days went by. And then guess who appears on the doorstep. I let him in, fed him, and I tell you, he was a CHANGED beast. He has orange eyes, he is very distinctive looking, so I know it's technically the same cat, but WOW, he had changed. He was sweet as pie. Nice to Mel, loved me dearly, was good in the house. And he weasled his way into my heart. After Mel passed, Chip and I became closer. And now we're just meshed. He's my love. He's down right human in his affection. His feeling get hurt when i don't give him enough love, and he tells me. He'll swat me with a paw (no claws, just pads) when he's mad, or out right show me he's ignoring me. Seriously - it's hilarious. He will go out of his way to sit directly in front of with his back or cat cheeks pointed my way. And he'll look to make sure I'm looking. Or he'll come close enough to be touched, then pull away just as I go to pet him, and give me the look. Or he'll talk at me. He meows away, and he has a fairly good range, so you know when he's happy, wants food, wants out, wants love, or hates you. He rocks my socks.

And I will miss him so when he's gone. He will join the ranks of Mel, Gopher and LK. True pets, true friends to the end. Never judging, always loving. Thank goodness for fur babies :)

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