Isn’t an actual child at all, he is a cat. My little Chaplin has been a good friend of mine for around 13 or 14 years. We’ve had our ups and downs and share of little spats, but I can say that we are in a great place right now. I remember well the first night we met and how I snuck him into Mom and Dad’s house in a box. I was in college and waiting tables and a friend’s cat had a litter so he offered one to me.
My mom hated cats, at least she thought she did. When we woke the next morning he was hungry so we made our way to the kitchen where Mom gave me the evil eye because I brought that precious little kitty home. She didn’t speak to me for three days because she was so mad. The next morning Dad walked into my room to find me and Chappy cuddling and he asked, “Well, what’s this?” in a loving voice. Dad was a real animal lover. I knew when he saw him, I was going to get to keep him. Mom eventually fell in love with Chaplin, especially when I left home after college and he stayed back with them. The rest is history.
I love him so incredibly much that I am sure I will be devastated when it’s time for him to leave me. But I don’t want to think of this little ol’ man that way; for now, I just want to celebrate him, and enjoy his company and precious smiles while he is here with me, following me around the house; napping in a spot anywhere close to me; sleeping on his side all stretched out next to me in bed at night; and under my feet constantly when I’m in the kitchen. Chaplin, I love you my kitty-witty!