Meet Chaplin

Chaplin was born to a feral mother who lives in the woods behind my daughter’s house, and who was apparently dumped there, probably when she was pregnant, by someone who, in my opinion, represents the lowest form of humanity. But that’s another story.

With coaxing and patience, Chaplin was lured into the house and adapted quickly to a life of regular meals and lots of loving. He turned out to be the most affectionate of creatures and my daughter fell in love with him. Because she already has four cats, plus more feral ones she takes care of, she really needed to find Chaplin a home.

So the search began and as luck would have it, we found him a beauty of a home. He now resides with a lovely lady in a big house with all the toys he could want and all the space to run and play that he needs.

I’ve been kitty-sitting Chaplin this week while his owner was away and we’ve had a wonderful time together. He’s such a love. I’ve been going up after work for a frisky play session and an hour or more of loving and purring (him, not me).