Over the years (my childhood and adulthood), I have had numerous amounts of pets. As a kid, I grew up in a house full of dogs. I remember when my dad fetched me from school one Valentines Day, I think I was in Grade 3, I climbed into the backseat right behind him and then when I looked up he had this white little ball of fur on his shoulder. I grabbed said ball of fur and named him Cupid. He was a tiny little Maltese Poodle and he was all mine. Cupid was my first pet. I used to carry him around in a small little blue bag. Yes, I was *that* person.
When I got older and moved out into my own space I moved onto cats and quite possibly became a little crazy cat lady. I kid. Not really. I have probably had 6 cats in the last 15 years and due to circumstances or sadly, death, I have had to part with all but one.
When we moved over to the UK, we desperately wanted to get another animal and decided on looking for a rescue cat and we ended up with this guy.
Chewie (or ChooWee if you are a 6-year-old) is a Snow Bengal who is incredibly vocal and incredibly slothlike. He sleeps all day and when he does choose to sleep, it will be on your face. He likes to cuddle up into your neck and if that means that he needs to sleep vertically on your chest, then so be it!
He’s probably the most lovable cat we have ever had and I am so happy that we adopted him.