Hello. My name is Cheddar. Yes, Cheddar. You may ask why an intelligent-looking black-and-white domestic longhair bears the name of orange cheese. Well, I too have wondered.First off, let me say that I am not named for the orange cheese. I am called after Cheddar, the English village where the cheese was invented. And if you're thinking "no, I'm afraid that still doesn't make sense," then you are not alone. It doesn't make sense.
I was not born in Cheddar. I have never lived in Cheddar. I have not visited nor have I any wish to visit Cheddar. I do not even like cheese.
So why am I called Cheddar? Well, you see "They" used to live in the English village of Cheddar. And in their widsom They decided that They wanted some small token of Cheddar in their lives. So I, the intelligent domestic longhair, get slapped with the ridiculous name of Cheddar.
This rather undignified photograph shows me tolerating the games the "Little Theys" play with me. The Little Theys thought I would look cute in a blue beret with a pink feather sticking out the top. Please refrain from laughing as I have my pride.
More chronicles of a long-hair, long-suffering domestic feline in the days and weeks to come.
