Chelsea's Story

Son #2 and his wife got Chelsea when she was a puppy, and since it didn't look like they would be having any children together, I said I would just have to settle and called Chelsea my granddog.

They are now getting a divorce. It is an amicable divorce that they both want so my son wanted to know if he could bring Chelsea when he moved home for a while. They also have another little dog named Simon that the wife who is staying in the house is keeping. So, home they came. They came around July 4th week-end so Chelsea was uprooted and they spent the first week-end home over at the campsite. She chose this chair to laze in. She is a bassett-beagle who could stand to lose some weight, but she is just lazy. She looks kind of sad in this first picture of her, and we thought maybe because she was missing Simon who she was so use to being with most of the time.

She is adjusting though, but she does usually look sad. She's still lazy and has taken over one of the chairs out in the rec room. The cats don't seem to mind her much at all. When my daughter found out the dog was coming she figured we might as well just put Chevy down since he is such a scardy cat, but he is managing just fine and even comes out when the dog is around.

So, we now have another grand-pet to add to our grandparenting skills.

Tess

We get to the lake for the week-end a few years ago and we are opening up when the grandson says, "Grandma there is meowing coming from under the barn storage shed".  I go out and look, and sure enough, there is a small cat under there.  We coax it out because not sure if it is stuck or not.  It is friendly but scared.  We go on about opening the camper and getting ready for the week-end. 

At the campfire that evening, the cat is going around, but kind of shy of the people.  It seems very hungry so we feed it what we can.  Others hold it some, and it seems to rest.

The cat hung around all week-end, and we kept trying to see if someone would take it home with them.  No takers.

On Sunday, we get ready to leave, and the cat is still there, running after a butterfly and playing some.  We leave for home.

We had recently lost our dog of 15 years, and weren't taking anymore pets, or at least that was the pack.  We get home, and hubby leaves Monday in his semi for loads.  It really bugs me that we left that cat in the neighborhood, and kept wondering would anyone feed it or take it in or would it just get hit.  I thought since it hung around all week-end and never ventured home and we had never seen it before, it must have been dumped in the neighborhood.  I decided on Wednesday at work that after work, I would drive the hour over there and if the cat is still there then it needs a home.  When I get there, it is nowhere to be found so I figure, okay problem solved.  It has gone somewhere.  I check the camper and am about to leave when I hear "meow, meow" and when I walk outside, here it comes running.  It snuggles up to me so I ask it, "do you want to go home with me?"  Of course, it answers J with a meow.  So into the car it goes, and I head out, it is meowing louder now so not sure if I should be taking it or how it will be, but soon it is crawling all over me as I drive.  I stop when I get somewhat down the road, and decide, I really should call hubby.  He answers and wants to know, "what's wrong".  I ask him if he will be really mad if I get the cat and bring it home.  Of course, his voice sounds like a smile because he is a softy too, and says that's up to me.  I stop and get kitty litter, and the store gives me a box they have since they didn't have any litter containers.

We get home, and the cat walks around like it really likes the carpet, and soon makes itself comfortable and takes a nap.  It goes great to the litter and never had an accident. The vet says she is about 9 months olds and in good shape.

We had Tess for 2 years, and then in November of 2007 on a Wednesday she looked all puffy so I took her to the vet. He wasn't sure what her problem was because he said if she were older, he would have thought she had congestive heart failure.  He gave her shots and said to bring her back and he would check her on Friday.  I took her back, and he gave her another shot.  On Saturday, I opened her favorite cat food, and she came out and ate some.  I was encouraged because I thought she's going to be okay. When I got up Sunday morning, she had made it to the water bowl, but could not move anymore.  Later that day, she died.  It broke my heart that she only got to live 2 years. I cried a lot, and hubby buried her, and put up a cross marker.  I loved that cat.  She loved to play hide and  seek, and was such a good cat. She loved paper wads, and when I would move furniture to clean I would find all that she had hidden.  She was fun.  I miss her still.