Chan and Charlie (II)
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|Words will never express my relationship with Chan. Let me just say that he was with us from when I was 6 years old until I was 23. That should say it all. I grew up with him. Charlie and Chan were always great friends, enjoying each other's company. Here is a picture of them when they were very young, sharing some grooming time in my wagon.|
|The next picture shows me with Chan. Note how much he appears to
be enjoying himself. From my experience, it's good to have children around animals, since
the endless playing and mischief helps the animal develop a tolerance for human contact.
Hopefully it's far more than a tolerance. It seems as if a cat that lives with a single
adult has a much different personality than a cat that lives with more than one person,
One time, when both of us were young, Chan got me into trouble. I had a model train layout set up in my bedroom. It was on a sheet of plywood placed in a corner of the room. In order to work on the layout, I would need to carefully walk all over the plywood, often up against the walls of the room.
Please remember that this was the early 1960's, and I had some sort of cream goop in my hair. Like father, like son.
I accidentally leaned my head up against the wall, which was covered with new wallpaper. My head left a nice round grease spot on the paper.
I guess I figured that I could probably song and dance my parents for another 20 years or so, and keep them from discovering the stain I had made on their wall. I went to bed thinking that I would have to keep them out of my room forever.
Chan would always sleep with me. As I got ready for bed, he would sit at the bottom of the stairs. He somehow always knew the sound of me getting into bed, as opposed to some other squeak or creak. He would run up the stairs and hop up on my bed. That's the way this night started off.
A few minutes later, there was a loud thud that shook the house. Then another. Then another. It sounded as if somebody was dropping something heavy on the floor.
Even in the dark room, Chan found that grease spot, and proceeded to attack it. The sound was him landing on the plywood, that then smacked the floor.
My parents dashed upstairs to check on me, and the source of the sound and the source of the problem were quickly discovered. So much for that grease spot staying a secret.
|The next picture of Chan shows him sleeping on my bed. That bed,
in my bedroom, was in DeKalb, Illinois. We lived there for four years, living in the
Cleveland area both before and after. We would visit Cleveland many times during those
years, since our family and friends were there. Chan would make the 7 hour car
trip without problem. I'm not sure he liked riding in the car, but he certainly didn't
mind it. Thank goodness for that. A Siamese cat deciding to be vocal for 7 hours would be
just a little much.
My grandmother, Mater, who lived with Charlie, moved into an apartment when the cats were around 12 years old. This was shortly after we had returned to the Cleveland area. Charlie came to live with us at that time, and spent that remainder of his life with Chan. Even though they had been mainly apart for over a decade, they enjoyed those final years together, napping with each other, and grooming each other. It was great fun to watch and be a part of.
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Sunday, September 29, 2002 10:59 PM
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