Captain Chuckerpants

In the continuing saga of Jack molding our new cat Chuckie into some sort of stuffed animal-baby brother hybrid, I introduce to you... Captain Chukerpants.

"Hey look, Mama -- Chuckie's wearing underpants!" Jackie announced this morning, as if Chuckie had woken from his slumber and decided, on his own volition, that the fur covering for his privates was simply not enough. "Underpants it is!" he must have declared.

I initially was like, "Get those underpants off Chuckie," then quickly added, "Wait... let me get my camera."

Because the funniest part was how chill Chuckie was about the whole thing. I didn't see the putting on of the underpants so I'm not sure how that went down, but look at his face. There's no indignity whatsoever. He's all, "Yeah, I'm hanging out in these oversized sports-themed skivvies. What's it to ya?"

He's the cat of my childhood dreams. Instead, when I was in fourth grade, we got Fritzi. She was a sweet kitty but not so much into being dressed up in clothing. At all. I had a ruffled baby bonnet I thought was particularly fetching on her and I would put her on bonnet lock-down in my room. Also, once she got in a fight with another cat and got a claw through the ear, resulting in a permanent piercing. I would put little hoop earrings in it, thinking she looked adorable, especially when paired with aforementioned bonnet. But the expression on her face was decidedly sour. I have pictures.

But Chuckie pretty much held this pose until I was done. Then he ate some food, in the underpants. And laid back down, apparently to take a nap, in the underpants.


Finally I made Jackie take them off, for real this time.

When it was over, Jackie patted him and said, "Good boy, Chuckie."

He sure is.