When we bought the house we lived in before (yes, they one we are trying to sell - - STILL), the sellers had a cat. Callie was a dark Tortiseshell, 5-1/2 years old, very petite and ladylike,. She had a sweet disposition, and a very LOUD purr; very lovable. She had been born there, and had always lived there.
I was told by the wife that they didn't really want to move her the 1,000 miles they were moving, and had not had time to try to find her a new home, so they were more than likely going to take her to the pound.
You see, back then, if an animal was taken to the pound, and not claimed or adopted within 7 days (or sometimes less), they were put to sleep. And they were just going to do that? To that sweet little girl? I don't think so!
I told them to leave Callie with us, and that we would take care of her. Was I sure, the wife asked me? I already had a cat, did I really want a second one?
Yes, I was sure.
Well then, I was really going to have to watch Callie, the wife warned me. "She is an outside cat, but every time you open the door, she tries to slip inside. You really have to watch out for that!"
Then the wife told me, "She has wanted to be inside ever since last winter, when she got sick. We had her inside, in a cage covered with blankets and a vaporizer, and the vet gave us medicine for her. She was inside for 10 days, then she was better and we put her back outside."
It was freakin' WINTER - - it was COLD, and BLEAK, and WINDY, and she had been inside the house for TEN DAYS . . . and they just threw her back outside.
I told them I was sure, and not to worry about it.
They moved away, we moved in, opened the door, said "Come on in!" to Callie . . . and she was an outside cat no more.
Oh, and? This little "outside cat" NEVER, EVER tried to get back out! She was inside, she was warm, she was loved. And that was all she wanted.
She was our constant companion - - it didn't matter what room of the house you were in, she wanted to be in the same room. Even if she was just laying there sleeping, it had to be in the same room her 'people' were in.
When she was about 10 years old, we brought home a 'rescue kitty', Carmichael. He was a little bitty thing, and even though Callie was NOT happy with the intruder, Steve and I believe what saved him was his 'kitten' status . . . but Carmichael's story will be told in the next post.
When we moved to this house a year ago, we were a little concerned about how Callie would handle the move; she was almost 17 years old, and had lived her whole live in the other place. Would she adapt? Would she totally freak out? We were worried for nothing - - she adapted to the new house beautifully. I guess as long as her 'people' were there, everything was fine! In fact, she was a lot better about it than the adventurous Carmichael . . . but that story will be told a little later.
I am not going to end this post telling how we lost our dear little girl - - that story was told a few posts back, and is still too painful and raw to go into again. Let's just say that our dear little girl will always be in our hearts, and we will always love her.