My name is Wilhelmina. I didn’t pick the name — my new companion did. 

A couple of years ago, I was rescued from a horrible place where I had been starved down to 3.5 pounds. A vet put me in a cage in his office foyer. I had been living with a very handsome orange tabby for a few months when a cranky woman showed up on winter morning. Of course, OrangePot, my name for the tabby, went right over and mewed, playing up shamefully. I stayed huddled in the back of the cage.

I didn’t think much about it until the cranky woman returned with a fluffy towel. Thank goodness. The December weather was atrocious. At home, she deposited me in an unpretentious townhouse and left me alone. Good call. On the third day, I decided to explore my new home. All the essential things were there – a soft bed with blankets for napping, a big poopy pit, a sock to shred, and lots of food.

My new caretaker likes to feed me, especially shrimp and scallops. She throws bags of catnip at me, for fun. I scratch her ankles as she walks by, for fun! There’s also a place under the sofa I like to scratch, for fun and annoyance. Overall, she’s a good caretaker.

Quite possibly, I have gained some weight because she renamed me–LoveChunks.

I must go chew on some wires to show my disapproval.

To everyone who knew her, she was a character. In her way, she loved you all.

Two years ago, Wilhelmina jumped from her cat tree and broke her leg in multiple places. According to the vet, she was in horrific pain and needed multiple surgeries with a long, painful recovery in front of her; I made a difficult decision.

I am sending love to everyone who shares their lives—you wonderful, courageous lovers. I miss her every day.

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