Um. Hello. I’m Chester.

It seems odd to introduce myself. I didn’t have a name before coming to Tabby’s Place. I’m still getting used to it. Actually, I’m getting used to a lot of things.

When I first arrived here, I was terrified. A human had put me in a carrier and then in a car. Living outside, you learn to be afraid of people and cars.

Next, I was carried into Tabby’s Place. There were a lot of cats here, and I didn’t know any of them. 

Then I was surrounded by humans. Right away, I was brought to a room called the Medical Suite. I was in very bad shape. My skin condition was so severe that I didn’t have much fur left. I was in agony. It even hurt to eat. I felt so weak.

Gentle hands examined me and tended to my wounds, but it hurt so much. Even though I lashed out, soft voices told me that I was safe now and that they would help me. Another voice asked, “What should we call him?”

Soon after that, everyone started calling me Chester. No one ever spoke to me before, and now I had a name? I never thought about not having a name before this. I only knew I existed.

I was still very frightened, but it felt reassuring to be addressed by a name. No matter how much I protested about my wounds being touched, the humans spoke sweetly to me. Through my haze of pain, I had a sense that I mattered to these people.

Once I was well enough and situated in my suite, a nice cat visited me. (Apparently, she was very skilled at opening doors when no one was around!) We had to converse through the glass, because I have feline immunodeficiency virus (FIV), but it was still nice to have a surprise guest. She said, “Hi, I’m Moo Moo.”

Then she said the strangest thing… “I have your chest hair!” I wondered if she had a vision problem. I replied, “That’s nice of you to say, but yours is pretty. Mine is still growing back, and has bloody patches.” 

She repeated herself louder and said, “I heard you’re Chester!” I was a little embarrassed. There was no problem with her vision, just my hearing.

Unfortunately, my exfoliative dermatitis causes a crusty buildup both inside and outside my ears. It’s a trouble spot for sure.

But the late, great Moo Moo came to welcome me, and also gave me some advice:  to try to come out of my shell, and get to know the wonderful staff and volunteers who take care of me.

In one sense, I’ve been coming out of my “shell” from the moment I arrived here and started getting treatment. My skin condition was such that I looked like I was covered with pebbles and shell-like lesions.

Correspondent Nancy thought I looked like the Game of Thrones “Stone Men” of  Old Valyria had pet me, and I contracted greyscale disease. It’s a good thing she wasn’t around when I got named. I could have ended up being called Jorah Mormont. I much prefer Chester.

My condition has improved a lot since then. The veterinary staff bathed and treated my hardened skin, tried special diets that didn’t work, and started a regimen of steroids that does work. They’re so diligent with whatever treatment I need.

They tried reducing my dose of steroids recently, but my ears got worse. I’m back on a higher dose now. I also got sedated for a full ear cleaning and cytology. The test revealed that I have an ear infection, so I’m getting medication for that, too.

My fur has been growing back. So many of the hard crusts and scabs are gone. I don’t even want to imagine what would have become of me if I were still living outdoors with little fur to keep me warm.

I’ve gained some weight, too. I just love meal time. I almost can’t wait for the dish to be put down.

As for coming out of my shell, I like living in Suite I. I made a nice friend who snuggles with me. His name is Mandarin. He’s shy like me, so we have each other for support. Sometimes it’s literally support. Mandarin seems to enjoy sleeping on top of me. 

Every day, I’m learning how patient and loving humans can be. I’m happy to tell you that I let myself be petted by a volunteer. I was surprised that it felt good. Being touched used to be so painful. She brought me a squeeze-up treat and petted my back while I was enjoying it. This could be a whole new thing for me!

Before she left, Moo Moo urged me to let go of the past. Being afraid isn’t a way to go through life. She assured me that I’ll always have medicine for health, food and treats, soft blankets, cozy cubbies, toys, and even a solarium to enjoy. Most importantly, kind people will care about me.

I asked her, “Is this heaven?” She said as she walked away, “No… It’s Tabby’s Place, where cats from hopeless situations are loved forevermore.” Sounds like heaven to me.

Thank you, new sponsor friend, for opening your heart to me and wanting to get to know me. I’m so grateful.

Love,
Chester
(With help from your correspondent, Nancy)

PS: The cats received a special December gift that they’re excited to share with you: NBC featured Tabby’s Place on Philly Live! Click here to see some of our Tabby’s Place felines enjoying their moment of fame. Thank you for helping to make this possible!

PPS: Did seeing our kitties on TV make you wish you could see them in person? You’re in luck! We’re hosting an Open House called Your Feline Valentine on Saturday, 2/7, and the first hour (12-1pm) is just for you, dear sponsors! (The event runs through 4pm, and you’re welcome to come by any time.) I hope I will get to meet you soon! I love you!