This is the story about my second youngest cat, Chickie. First of all, his name started out as Munchkin. Then I started calling him Munchiekins. After a while it sounded like My Chicken and finally we just started callin him Chickie.
Chickie was found in the garbage. A friend of mine was throwing garbage out and her garbage bag broke. As she was picking up the garbage to throw in the dumpster, she heard a very faint "mew". turns out, someone had tried to strangle him, put him in a box, closed the flaps and threw him in the dumpster in the middle of July. My friend rescued him and he's been ours ever since. Because of his strangulation, little Chickie walks as if he were swimming on dry land. His back legs don't work very well and he can't jump up on things like the other cats, but he sure knows how to use his litter box and that's all that matters to me. He's as sweet as can be. He's also crosseyed and where he was strangled, he doesn't grow any fur. Here's a picture of the poor dear, but he's a great little guy. His best friend is Punky, the gray cat belowe.
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