I’m known as a nice person in the neighborhood, but there are body parts strewn all over my house.

Chester Cheetah has been dismembered. One arm is under the sofa, another is in my bed. His leg is buried somewhere out in the yard. I picked his eyeballs from the living room carpet two nights ago. But Chester Cheetah isn’t ready for the trash heap just yet. Because he’s Daisy’s baby, and she loves him to pieces.

Lolli found Chester this past May on our trip to Nag’s Head with the other OBX Skanks. He was resting peacefully in Pam’s house,  upstairs under a bed, just waiting for two crazy beagles to come along, sniff him out, and bring him home.

Lolli found him but Daisy claimed him, and he’s been her constant companion ever since. When I come home at the end of the day, Daisy greets me at the door, runs to the bedroom, grabs Chester and bounds back, first to the sofa and then to the back door. Chester goes with her outside. Chester goes with her potty. Chester sleeps next to her at night. In short, he is her baby. He is also her toy, her prey, and her her conquest, all things that Lolli will never pretend to be.

It doesn’t matter to her that his arms and one leg are gone, or that what used to be his eyes are now two gaping holes of white spongy blankness. Like the old Wendy’s commercial used to say, parts is parts, and Daisy loves Chester’s parts just as much as she loves his whole. Space is limited on our drive to LA, but Chester Cheetah, or what’s left of him, will be going along for the ride.

After all, this is love.

Lolli with a new Chester in the OBX. Daisy and Chester last night.