Turning in his Hoosier card

My cat is from South Hanna Street. Sounds rough right? Kind of. For the Chicago people, lemme put it in perspective. Fort Wayne's southeast side is not as bad as the worst Chicago neighborhoods but a lot rougher than, say, Hanover Park or Streamwood. By far. A lot of poverty. Drugs. Just a shady neighborhood. But that's where the SPCA is, and that's where I met Chachi. He was turned into the SPCA after someone found him and his brother and sister in a paper bag, doused in kerosene.

Next subject.

I originally selected Chachi's brother, because he had a more angelic face (I know what you're thinking-my guy is the most handsome cat you've ever seen, how could there be a cuter kitty?) The SPCA makes you wait a day after you first pick out your animal to make sure it's a decision you really want to make. When I went back the next day, I decided to hold both of the kitty brothers, just to be sure. Chach's brother was cute, but he really had no reaction to me. Chach could not stop purring when he was in my arms. I made a last-minute switch and never regretted it. As the nurse at my vet always says, as she pets his cheek, "She saved you."

Now that I'm moving, Chach is going to have to give up his Indiana residency. He'll have "roommates" for awhile (aka, my parents). His toys won't all be in one place. He'll hopefully stop being a scaredy cat since so many people come in and out of my parents' house. Chach is an odd cat in that he actually likes to travel. He'll sleep in his cat carrier when we're at home. When he's in there, I like to think he's put the "do not disturb" sign up. So he likes being at my parents and exploring and having their attention.

So look out for Chach at the DMV, getting his Illinois state ID. Kitty cats don't drive, silly.