Our animal children

We have four animal children. Two cats, Rahjah & Tabitha, and two dogs, Rissa and Chewbacca.

Rahjah is our oldest. I adopted her 12 years ago, when she was only 10 weeks old.

My family calls her the brat cat. For the most part, she doesn't like people. She will lay in the kitchen, right in front of the fridge, and as you walk by, minding your own business, hiss and swat your legs. She especially loves to do this to my mother-in-law, as I think she gets a thrill out of making her scream.

Rahjah will jump up on the arm of the couch if you are eating something, and start purring. She is the loudest purring cat I have ever heard. Pretty soon, she'll butt her head into your arm. She will beg and beg until finally you offer her something, then she'll sniff it and turn up her nose.

Rahjah very rarely lets anyone touch her. She will lay by me on the couch, and I can stroke her 4-5 times, then she starts growling, and if I try to pet her again, she'll snarl and bite me. For some reason, I'm the only person she actually bites.

Rylee has recently taken to blowing raspberries at Rahjah every time she goes by her, I think because Rahj is always hissing at Rylee.

A very rare moment, Rahjah sleeping with Rylee

Tabitha or Tabby, is probably around 9 years old. I am unsure of her actual age, as she was a stray wandering around my friend's apartment building, and softy that I am, I took her home with me.

Tabby is the most loving, laid back cat ever. She absolutely loves people, sometimes to the point of being a pest. When someone comes over, she runs to greet them, and winds around their legs and cries until they pet her. If you happen to pick her up, she will rub on your face, and try to crawl up to drape around your shoulders like a shawl.

Tabby wants to sleep on my pillow every night, and let me tell you, she's a pillow hog. She will get up on my pillow, then lay on my head until I shove her off the bed. This will happen a few times until I give up and move my head to give her room.

Tabby is Rylee's buddy. Rylee carries her all over the house, and will hold Tabby and do barrel rolls across the living room floor. I feel so bad for Tabby that I'm always getting after Rylee to leave the cat alone, but Tabby will come right back for more.

Rylee carrying Tabby like a baby

Rissa is a six year old pit bull. Don't let the breed fool you...she's more chicken than dog. Rissa is afraid of her own shadow. Loud noises send her fleeing from the room.

Nolan adopted Rissa from a rescue when she was three months old. Someone had taken her to the vet, and then walked out and left her on the table. Nolan put her through obedience school as a puppy, and although Rissa passed, Nolan failed.

Because of the neighborhood we live in, Nolan spent lots of time with Rissa, pulling gently on her ears and tail, and reaching in her food bowl to make sure she would never react badly to this if someone else, especially a child, did it.

She will bark and bark at people walking by, and although she looks vicious, what she's really saying is, "Come play with me."

Rylee loves to play with Rissa; she'll take her bone from her and run, waiting for Rissa to chase her.

Rissa, Chewy & Rylee

Chewbacca, Chewy, is a five year old chihuahua. I got Chewy when he was 9 months old.

He is the dog in our house that you have to worry about biting you. I suppose if I was that small, and someone I didn't know reached for me, I'd bite too.

My sister Jen calls him an oxygen waster. She says he's not big enough to be called a dog.

Sometimes I don't think Chewy knows how little he really is. When he's outside, he will bark and growl at other dogs as they walk by, straining to get to them as if to eat them, not realizing he'd barely be a snack to that dog.

Chewy is the trouble starter in our house. He sits on the back of the couch, watching out the window. When someone walks by, he will growl or let out a short bark, which will set Rissa off.

These are our other "kids", this way you'll have an idea who I'm talking about when they come up later.

Until next time,
Chelle