Remembering Chey

Cat people call certain cats, heart cats. And my Siamese was a heart cat.

Chey was three years old when I got her. She’d belonged to a breeder who didn’t like the kittens she was throwing so for the cost of her spay, she became mine. A purebred chocolate point who knew exactly how extraordinary she was.

She hated me at first. Wouldn’t come out. Wouldn’t do much of anything. And then she met my other cats. She fell in love with my calico, Georgia. Gemini made her feel comfortable as she was just about the same age as the kittens Chey had been forced to leave behind. And slowly, she decided I was okay to become her person.

She’s been gone for three years now and I still miss her. I love my other cats, but Chey was special.

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