To wrap up what we’ll call my…introductory series of guest posts, I’d like to delve in to a little more detail about a 150 lb. ball of fluff named Chester that I live with. Obviously this post had to be relegated to second string behind my post on Melissa (complete with unmentioned pebble fists) otherwise endless amounts of jealousy would ensue if I wrote about that precious little (yea right, little, I slay myself) kitten before I wrote about living with Melissa.

I’ll start from the beginning, which I briefly touched upon in my first post describing the initial office chair encounter between Chester and myself. To say that we had a rough beginning would be a huge understatement. He could not stand me and it was clear that he didn’t want me around, and I’m not convinced that that sly little devil wasn’t trying to get rid of me in the initial weeks of Melissa and I dating. Even when he put up with me, he always tried to make it clear that he was calling the shots.

And when I say he’s a sly little devil, I’m not exaggerating at all. Let me describe to you one of Chester’s favorite little tricks he used to play on me. I could be lying somewhere; a bed, a couch, it didn’t really matter to him. Once I was comfortable and my guard was down, Chester would see opportunity in front of him and spring in to action. That’s not to say he rushed in to anything though, this is one patient and calculating kitten. So anyway, I would be relaxed and comfortable with my guard down, and Chester would proceed to jump on top of me on my stomach. That in itself doesn’t sound frightening, and it really isn’t aside from the sound of my ribs cracking under his weight.

It’s what comes next that used to scare me.

After jumping on me and acting like a cute little kitten, his true colors would then reveal themselves. At this point it was like a switch was flipped, and I was in the presence of a totally different Chester, the true Chester. He would dig his claws in to me, and start hissing at me. While he was on top of me, I had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. He would literally sit on top of me and then turn in to this little monster that seemed to want nothing less than my absolute destruction. Naturally, I would then react to save myself, quickly shoving him off of me before he went for the killstrike. At this point, obviously, he would revert back to cuddly kitten mode and act like I was the biggest brute in the world and just an absolutely abusive monster for shoving him off of me to save my life.

Chester has since warmed up to me, to the point where Melissa frequently says that I’m his favorite. He’ll pet my leg when he wants me to refill his water and food, purrs ferociously when I pet him, and he actually likes to genuinely lay with me now. Sure, that could seem like he favors me, I can see why she says that.

Oh, but that’s right, today he did his little kitten business on my sandals instead of in the litter box.  That’s love.

Did I mention he used to wait for me at the top of the stairs and then proceed to bite my ankles all the way down till I reached the safety of the bottom floor?