Poor Chester

This is Chester. He chose Tom about a year ago. Tom was at work and here comes this tiny kitten that flopped down on Tom's foot. Tom brought him home, and Chester has ruled us ever since.

Chester isn't sure what he is. He's grown up with Zippy and Pookie, my two dogs, and he and Zippy are best friends. They roll and tumble and chase each other around the house.

Chester antagonizes our other two cats. Since he and the dogs moved in, Lily and Beghera live pretty much outside. Lily brings up little treats for us so we can tell her what a good girl she is; she persists in dragging in dead and near-dead flying squirrels, mice, and chipmunks. Once she's praised for her efforts, she's happy and stops howling.

Chester has learned that if he runs for the front door when he first hears her cries, he can slip out and grab the treat before she knows what happened. He takes off into the yard, leaving a bewildered Lily behind. She doesn't seem to mind too much, although she'll take a swipe at him if he gets close enough.

Chester shares Zippy's food and water bowls, but he much prefers his water to be......plentiful. He runs into the bathroom and waits till the toilet is flushed (thank goodness for that!) then jumps up to drink his fill. Sometimes he's too lazy to actually jump up to the seat; then he just sort of slides in, half of his body hanging off the toilet, looking like he's had a rough night.

Poor Chester.