As promised last week, today I blog about Callisto.
Callisto, aka "Callie", is my eight year old tortoise shell. She came to me as a kitten, to be a friend and playmate for Puff, who had recently lost her brother. It didn't quite work out that way....
Callie was a vicious little shit. She would attack anything that moved. Puff, me, the curtains, dust bunnies - it didn't matter; if it moved, it was fair game. It took me quite a while to break her of this. I finally managed it by holding her tightly (and for long periods of time) and patting her back - much like one burps a baby (except for the 'holding tightly' bit).
This, of course, is now her most-favorite-thing-in-the-world-ever. Followed closely by "chase the laser dot" and "fuck with Puff". Callie has been 'part of the family' for almost exactly eight years (she arrived at the loft on Easter in 1999), and she and Puff still don't get along. I have long since given up hope that this will ever change.
This lack of getting along is especially difficult, given that the three of us have, for the past seven years, lived in a 25' Winnebago RV - and neither cat will go outside (I can leave the door open and they run from the opening - course that's a good thing, considering I live in the woods and there are owls and mountain lions [at least one]) . When Callie decides that it is time to chase Puff, I usually end up being a climbing post. You know, leg slashed open by claws sort of thing as Puff tries to escape by hiding on my shoulder.
I can say only that I'm eternally thankful that my kitties spend 99.7% of the time sleeping.