My son, Chester

Chester Cheetah Fleming doesn't get enough credit. Sure, if you turn the corner where he's pretending to sleep, he's goes for the calf with his perfectly sharpened scissor hands. Many of our friends (but not US) have actual scars on their wrists and hands from surprise attack bites during purring, nuzzling moments of giving pets, scratches, and love to the little chester man. These moments of viciousness are still a mystery.
As I always say, I didn't raise him to act that way. 97.2% of the time, he is loving, sweet, and a downright precious little guy who would only harm wild rodents, bugs, birds, and silly neighborhood cats and dogs who believe they are entitled to outings and fresh air in their own back yards.
He knows something is "up" with me. Maybe its the swollen belly, the increasing time at home, or just that amazing sense cats have, but he has become my sidekick and my shadow. He gets stepped on, kicked, and knocked over at least daily (not anyone's fault but his as he has taken to walking between my feet).
Tossing and turning at night has become something of a sport for me and he's always being disturbed just as he gets comfortable, requiring him to have to pace and "knead bread" on me (real pleasant at 3 am) until he finds just the right position and then the cycle continues. The alternative of my disturbing him is when sweet Brooks hears a yelp from me as Chester pounces on my stomach in the wee hours and has developed an automatic reaction of grabbing chester, and pulling him over to his side at 2 minute intervals. Between all this, I'm feeling very loved and taken care of, if not well rested.
And even with all this, combined with less attention than he's used, Chester has not complained once. He only gets cuter and sweeter (I can't say that for those who visit the house). I wish he understood English so I could tell him how much I appreciate his companionship and how much HE is loved.
So anyway, I thought I'd update friends and family with some recent Chester-isms.


Chester loves water, but of course only if its his choice. After noticing that he loves to splash the bath water when one of us is in, or that when we jump out and pull the drain, he jumps in and plays frantically until the water runs out, we have taken to giving him his own bath time. 2 inches of water and he is in heaven. He'll drink, splash, sit, and soak, followed by long grooming sessions. He loves it, and we definitely get a kick out of it.



This is Chester dozing. He's pretty funny. He actually sleeps like this, and in other strange positions. The only downside: When he's this cute, and obviously comfortable, it would be a crime to bother him. Poor Brooks has to have everything brought to him in times like these. Water refills, beer (which smells great to a pregger), the phone, dinner, etc.
With me its a little different. When I'm awake, I visit the bathroom about every 20 minutes and Chester has noticed, and modifying sleeping patterns accordingly.

My gift to Chester: In the red, Cat Nip. In the orange, some nutritious cat grass.
This is his little set-up on the porch (i tried to get him to pose--he basks in the sun on the open space of the table--but he is, you guessed it, napping).
Chester, in his wildest dreams, never imagined free reign of cat nip. He's a spoiled, happy dude. I just can't get the nip to grow as fast as the demand. I might need to have some "potted" treats in every room to keep up with life style.

I am rambling and I apologize. He's my first born. But as a mother to my first biological child, I will make an effort to REALLY not allow biting and scratching, to encourage an active lifestyle, and to provide food on plates and bowls as opposed to dirt.

I must go. Hes awake and ready for some "fancy feast".