It's nearing a year that Chester has been with A. and me and he's made our home a better place.
For one thing, the room that we set aside for him for his first days I was mostly avoiding since our rabbit Harey died a couple of years prior. That was the rabbit slash guest room but it had become a junk room and where A. practiced guitar. We tidied the room up for Chester and now I use that room again for everything from synching my iPad, to reading, and napping with Chester on the futon.
When I visited my parents, I also got to see their cats, some with whom I grew up. But then one would die, another disappear after going outside, and finally my parents decided not to take the two remaining cats with them when they moved to an apartment (my sister and aunt each took one cat). I was hurt but my way of dealing with all of the loss was to close up a part of me that loved cats. Having Chester to love and care for has helped me open up to the cat person in me again. **Edit: A. is allergic to cats and has severe asthma. For some reason, he's not allergic to Chester.
And then there's Chester's greeting us when we come home. He has a different way of welcoming both my husband and I and it's just wonderful to experience after a stressful New York City day.
I think there's a lot more happiness (not to mention fur!) in our home because of Chester. I'm so happy that he's my fur child!