Wow, someone’s foot was in serious peril there for a minute . . . At least I think it was a foot.
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Strangely, eight years later, if she’s on the bed, you’d better not wiggle your toes too much. She’s also terrified of walking on mounded blankets for some reason. All true.
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holy crap, that’s a gorgeous calico. we used to have a tortie, but she died several years ago now. she was amazing.
…you never forget your first cat, i gotta say. 
EDIT: i have to add, that one of our current cats is a black one. when i was a kid, our family had a black cat, too. black cats are awesome. it always makes me sad to see how many black cats sit in shelters.
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Ditto. This little one lived to (we think) 15. We don’t know if her tiny size was poor nutrition or just genes.
A few months before she died, she occasionally stopped eating. One day she was at the top of the stairs. My SO watched, horrified, as she rolled all the way down the stairs! But at the bottom, she picked herself up, said, “What just happened?” and a few minutes later, went back to eating.
I vowed that next time she stopped eating, I’d roll her down the stairs again. But I didn’t really mean it.
RIP, Glori.
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omg, she reminds me of our tortie, Artemis – she was the runt of her litter, and was small all her life, too. i think she was about 9lbs max. she lived to be 17. she was fierce – her size was deceptive. i once saw her team up with two of my sister’s cats, and they formed a triangle with her at the bottom point of the “V” while they chased down a rabbit. she was the one to tackle the rabbit, and it was basically the same size as she was, if not larger. up until that point, i had no idea she even knew HOW to do such a thing – she had basically been an indoor cat up until that point! i adored her. she really was the goddess of the hunt.
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That’s the name of my dilute calico…
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holy shit, for real? how awesome is THAT?? what a coincidence. 
it’s a great cat name, for sure.
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Neat! We don’t really know why Glori was so small. She had weirdly long back legs and big paws, so it may have been a nutrition problem. When we got her, she was about 2 yrs old, and skinny, only 4 1/2 lbs. She had unknown health problems, but our vet turned her around in no time. She rapidly went up to 8 or 9 lbs, a little too much! – then dropped back to 7 1/2 or so.
We think she was a stray, but now, with a house and guaranteed meals, she retired from hunting, except when a wasp made it into the bedroom. Wasp was dead on the floor when we noticed it and she was right there, as if to say “You’re welcome.” Don’t know if she really was the one who zapped it, but it’s fun to think she was that good. She was exceedingly fast with a paw, like when you did something wrong!
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i bet she got it. don’t mess with torties/calicos!
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They can have very, uh, strong personalities. Our first cat was a small calico, an only cat, who was sweet most of the time, but if you did something wrong, prepare for punishment. Like going on vacation. We’d get back, it was like, meow, meow, meow (“Let me tell you why I’m going to punish you”) and then she’d bite my SO on the calf and run away. Never me. I don’t know why.
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yes, for sure. that’s one reason why i love them – they are SO expressive. my Artemis and i had a really deep understanding of each other, and could read each other really well. i knew how far i could push her and she knew likewise with me. i suspect your cat never bit you because she knew you were the top cat in the pride, as it were, and she didn’t want to lose favor with you by showing anger at you – only your SO. Artemis would occasionally put on attitude like she was going to challenge me as top cat, but she’d always back down if i made it clear that it wasn’t a good idea. (but in all honesty, i knew she really did secretly rule as top cat, haha. i was totally putty in her paws.)
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Most dachshunds always look weird to me because they’re so small and delicate. Growing up, we had a short-haired standard dachshund which dad used to take fell walking (and he was serious about his fell walking). As a consequence his body was like a barrel of muscle and it was easy to see how you could set them to dig out badgers.
Fun fact: he used to sleep on an old fleece jacket and in the morning we’d have to extract him from the sleeve.
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His little sweater!
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Now Sonatina above never gets mad at all, except when being combed in forbidden (i.e., nether) regions. For some reason, she seems to be at the bottom of the pecking order.
But you’re right; I think calico/tortoiseshell cats tend to be a bit on the cranky side.
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Here is Sonatina’s sister, Alizarin. (We usually called her Ally or Ally Cat). Alas, she died at 12 due to feline hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, a couple of years ago.
But the mere fact Ally lived to 12 (after being diagnosed at 2) was an accomplishment! All due to medication, 4 pills near the end, which she took gracefully – and due to an excellent couple of vets.
Ally was the mellowist cat I’ve ever seen. She loved laps, shoulders, and upside-down cradling. She never had a complaint (except when our male cat bothered her; then it was screechville). Well, vet trips weren’t fun either.
Some weird coincidences, related to her heart: Her humane society name was “Cupid.” We named her Alizarin, after the crimson pigment, to sort of honor my mother who loved to paint (oils then acrylic). This was before she was diagnosed.
She had a prominent heart shaped blotch on her side, which you can sort of see above.
I worked with regulating prosthetic heart valves for a while, so I could sort of understand what was going on when Ally had one of her ultrasound scans. She had some valve problems at first, but that was sorted out with medication to slow her heart.
Weird, but I would have loved to have not had the coincidences and still have her here with us.
I think Sonatina misses her, or did. Her eating habits abruptly changed for about a month after Ally died; I think she was grieving, but who knows. We all miss Ally a lot, but we do have a lot of good memories! What more can you ask of a pet.
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I’ve had several kittehs take terrible health slides when they lost their buddies. Sometimes depression which healed with new friends coming home, other times unfixable slides into death. The later is how we have our current fold. We had three, but the loss of the eldest resulted in rapid decline in the other two. We brought home a kitten (derpasaurus), but the now-oldest kitteh kept declining. When she passed, we left the former youngest and the kitten with each other, but the remaining older cat continued to decline. Once the last of the older lot was gone, derpasaurus couldn’t cope as a single, so we brought home another kitten. The current youngest was simple lack of resistance on our part. The youngest is so damned sweet that no one can resist her.
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We had a lovely Tabby named Tiny, who was Iris’ best friend. When we lost Tiny too soon, Iris stopped eating, and stopped playing and hid a lot. That’s when Manny Pearl needed rescuing, and Iris stepped right up. It’s anthropomorphizing, I know, but I am convinced Iris was sad. And, I’m really glad that she got better, because I’m not sure how well Manny would have done without her.
RIP Tiny
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My dog was attacked by a Staffordshire mix (not sure with what, but too big for a Staffy) Friday. She dove through a hole she had dug under a fence and got my dog as my husband was walking him. I treated him for lacerations all over his face, and he’s healing fine.
But the owners of the Staff keep texting to ask how he is, and I’ve been ignoring them. But since they’re keeping the lines of communication open, do any of you with digging breeds have any resources on dog-proofing yards that you really liked? I don’t want the dog out in the street and attacking dogs or people or getting itself run over. They haven’t patched the hole yet, but are keeping the dog inside.
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