the one...the only...chester

My cat. My cat is a constant source of amusement and frustration to me. My friends and family seem to like him for their own various reasons, although his life was one with humble beginnings, riddled with neglect and malnutrition. Our story begins about 8-9 years ago. I received a call from a friend one day who was visiting another friend. She informed me that there was a stray kitten hanging around and asked if i wanted to come rescue it. Of course i said yes, and my family and I went down to pick it up. When we got there we saw the cutest little baby kitten ever, and it was so malnourished and had these massive goggle eyes. The girls were feeding it birthday cake and it was totally going to town on it. My mum expertly concluded that it was a boy cat, which was fine with me. We took him home and I named him Chester - i beleive it was a mixture of both a liking for linkin park lead singer and sean william scott's portrayal of chester in "Dude... Where's my car?". Hey i was like 13... like omg.

Anyway the vet assured us he was a boy, although as he was so young his testes hadn't dropped, and we waited for them to drop so we could get him desexed. We were further reassured of his male-ness when my younger bro was holding him like a baby stroking his soft white belly, and out came the lipstick! to this day i have never seen DK (bro) move so fast and look so disgusted... muahaha.

Anyway, over the years his cuteness seemed to shine less and less bright in our household. He didn't grow to full male ginger tom size, and his testes never dropped - but we had forgotten all about this somehow. Soon poor chester became the butt of jokes, most ran wittily along the "ranga, fanta pants, blood nut" vein. He was also never called Chester, he was called "whore" or "slut" or a variety of other awful names... Playfully of course. My older brother took great delight in thinking up more and more awful names for my poor little cat. Like a mother bird who senses her baby is weak and runty, i pushed him out of the nest of affection, and it seemed my mum was the only one who would care for him. He soon began to be an outdoor cat, and the foolish teenage me couldn't care less.

We found out after a few years that he was actually sleeping in our neighbours house, and eating their cat's food. He would casually go in through the cat door and make himself at home, they didn't mind. He also did this when living at my dad's house, and our neighbours started calling him "James". Shit cat name IMO. Anyway he is a vagrant.

One tragic afternoon we were driving home as a family, and pulling into the driveway, Chester ran forward to greet the car. Unfortunately this was the day he learnt his lesson not to tango with big cars. We all felt a definate "ba-boom" as my mum ran over him. We clamboured out of the car but he was nowhere to be seen. All that was left was some red fur stuck to the concrete and tyre. We found him later that night by shaking his box of cat food in the middle of the court, the sound echoing over the neighbourhood. He came back and was totally not happy. Over the next few days he developed a bulge in his stomach and leg where he had been run over. We thought there was internal damage and took him to the vet, where he told us that out little Chester would be fine. He also told us that Chester had what he likes to call "Inverted Testicals" and that if left alone could become cancerous. I was worried but didn't have the money for surgery, and my parents didn't seem to think it was a big deal.

Years later - in 2009, Chester came to live with me and my partner. It was his 5th house i calculated. The last house where he lived was with my dad and brothers (and me before i moved out). This was his rebel period, where he hated everyone and noone paid him attention, and he hated human contact, and he disliked being indoors.

However when he came to live with me, he seems happier than ever. We have a nice little relationship now, as i am the one who feeds him, you see. He goes by the name Chester at my house, also sometimes Tootsie, Toodie, Baby, or Little Boy. There is none of the name calling or insult slinging going on here. He is, according to one of my friends a "tripper", as he stares at the wall for hours on end purring. My dad was talking to a vet recently and he asked how much the surgery would cost, and she told him that cats never have inverted testicals and that it is common in dogs. She informed us that Chester is more than likely a hermaphrodite. Yes that is right. My cat is not quite a boy. He has a very strange personality. He dislikes toddlers (not mine - i dont have kids) pointing at him while he is licking his soft white belly... see below:


He also sleeps in weird places, like this footstool. Or on the book you are reading, or on your laptop keypad. He actually shit on the carpet TWICE in the same spot recently. I came home from work to find him inside and the smell was like a hot punch in the face. I was like "where is it...? WHERE DID YOU DO IT?!?!" to which he merely meowed and rubbed against my leg. I found it in the most hard to reach corner and it was the most disgusting thing i have ever cleaned off the carpet. yuckz. Then about a week later he did it again. So ashamed of him.


And he never drinks from his bowl. He refuses to drink unless it is from the fishbowl. He never tries to attack the fish, but just likes the water. It's so normal to me, but when we have people over they all lose their shit over it and grab him off the table. There was that one time when he stood on the kitchen bench next to a glass of water, and carefully dipped his foot into the water and licked his paw dry, and continued for a few minutes. It was weird. But he is weird so it's really not that weird.

So that is the tale of Chester and his weird habits. Yep.