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Champi had the weirdest name for a cat, don't you think? I lost her back in 2014, and I don't have a single picture with her. We had some old-school camera photos, but we lost them when we moved to our new home. Since then, I haven't had another pet. While I wasn't too attached to them, Champi's death did leave me with a fear of separation.
We didn’t get Champi from a pet store; she was a stray cat who made our home her own. She showed up randomly one day and stole some store-bought fish, leading to a hilarious chase with my grandmother. But Champi kept coming back every day until one day she didn't, and my grandmother searched all over our neighborhood for her. After a few days, Champi returned, and her daily antics of stealing and dodging my grandmother's scoldings made her a family favorite. Champi is an Odia word that roughly means a sassy little girl, and I remember her sassiness as she strutted past my granny with her tail held high after getting food from my mom. That's how we found and named Champu.
I recall her moving around the house, often sleeping beside my grandfather's chair on the veranda while he read the newspaper. Today, those memories of the veranda, my grandparents, and Champi feel distant, yet they are the first things that come to mind when I think of my childhood. The tale of Champi's fish theft is almost an everyday story.
I don't have a remarkable pet story, but I truly enjoyed Champu's company.
❤️🧿💙