Mr. Chips and Lucy (formerly Muffin and Sprout)

Lucy and Mr. Chips were part of Mittens's Kittens, a litter rescued during the first year when Paws & Claws was operating out of a house in Evanston. After losing our 17-year-old cat Trucky in the fall of 2019, we were ready to bring some new life into the house. So in early 2021, we started looking for some kittens. It was pandemic times, so were were looking online and came across Paws & Claws and a pair of medium-haired kittens--one white and the other black and white tuxedo--with the most mischievous little faces we'd ever seen.

We were familiar with male cats and knew they were really friendly, so we wanted at least one male cat, but the black and white pair were both female. We figured things might be different if there were two of them, so we submitted our adoption papers and waited for the kittens--Muffin and Sprout--to be spayed. The day of the surgery, we got a call from Ashlynn. We were so scared something bad had happened, but it turned out that Muffin the white cat just turned out to be male. We were thrilled. We went to pick them up on the porch in February in single digit weather--it was maybe five degrees outside. They were so tiny.

Muffin became Mr. Chips because he loved food as much as we loved potato chips during the pandemic. And Sprout--who had been orphaned, fed by syringe by Ashlynn's family, and integrated into Mittens's litter--became Lucy because she reminded us of Lucille Ball in the episode of I Love Lucy where she's dancing drunkenly on stage in a tuxedo. One day, both of them grew really quickly, sending all their energy into growing gigantic fluffy tails. Lucy has remained slightly skittish when new people are around, but Mr. Chips is now the mayor of Lincoln Square in Chicago. He goes for leash walks in the park and makes friends with all the dogs and people. Everyone loves him. People literally stop their cars and get out to come and say hello. He's brought so much joy to the entire neighborhood, not to mention to our house.

At least once a week, we think of whoever held tiny little Lucy in their arms and fed her to health.

Love,

Cathy H.