About 14 years ago I rescued another kitten. Her mother walked away with 3 siblings and left Cruella behind. She was so small I had to bottle feed her
Cruella received her name because she was wicked, biting and scratching. Even though lovingly tended to, she never became a friendly cat, except to Bob. She would search him out in the evening and sit on his chest.
She would also follow us upstairs at bedtime and reclaim her Bob pillow.
Most people never see Cruella. If someone does get a glimpse of her they feel honored.
Cruella lives upstairs, mainly sleeping on my bed. Today she surprised me.
She came down to the kitchen to try out the dog bed. It seemed to suit her so she stayed for an afternoon nap today.
At night, Cruella will join me in bed. It took her a while to honor me with her presence. She actually purrs as we both doze off to sleep.
Something different. Today I decided to record one of my dad’s stories.
My dad told it better, but at least he wrote down some of his stories. This one was adapted in my novel Chicken Charlie’s Year. There you’ll find more action that I imagined and added to fill out this remembrance.