Chessie, my very first kitty, was rescued from a hollow tree by Rhonda Stout when I was in either second or third grade. She was my birthday present from my very best friend, Anna. Chessie was my wild kitty. She didn’t like to be held or petted, and she would often hide under beds waiting for the random feet to pass so she could attack. Although she was a small mama, she could attack anything. She would leave lots of little gifts for us…little mice or birds waiting for us on the front stoop when we came home.

Over the past few years, Chessie has mellowed out. She started to jump on our laps, cuddling on her terms. I would catch her purring, and we were all really enjoying her in her old age. However, she stopped eating recently. She gradually stopped eating. My dad grilled steaks for her. She ate those at first, but then she wouldn’t eat anything. I saw her at Christmas, and I thought she was skinny, but it wasn’t too bad. I got home on Saturday and damn. She is nothing. You can see her ribs through her skin, and I feel really terrible touching her..I’m pretty sure that I’m going to hurt her. I’ve seen her eat maybe one or two bites of food in 5 days. She came into the house this morning, and she couldn’t even walk straight.

She’s at the vet this morning, and my dad is going to see what the vet says. If there is nothing that the vet can do, then my dad is going to put her down. I don’t know what’s going to happen to Chessie, but I love her anyway.

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