Crazy - The Itty Bitty Story

She totally has a mustache. Shhhh.

Itty Bitty was adopted from a local shelter a couple of years ago. She didn't like the dog at her new house, so she stayed in the basement. (I hope it was at least a finished basement. Geez.) Then, in the catastrophic flooding last September, the basement filled with water, and she lost her place to stay. She was given to a new family, and all was well, until the woman's boyfriend moved in. He didn't like Itty Bitty, so oops! She had to go. A new place to stay was found, except the new place had a dog, and so Itty Bitty was living in the bathroom, and the woman taking care of her had to have surgery, and ... the rescue group was called.

I am not sure why she wasn't taken back to the original shelter - all of the local shelters have lifetime return policies. But she ended up with the group I volunteer with, and since Molly was going to Petsmart, well ... welcome, Miss Bitty! She'll be staying with me until space opens up at the adoption center.

Itty Bitty is ... mercurial. She runs hot and cold. One minute she's following me from room to room, rubbing against my legs, and the next minute she's hissing and swatting and running away. I'd always heard stories about how bitchy tortoiseshells were, but I'd never had one before, and ... yeah. "Bitchy" is a good word for it. My orange cats were crazy, but they were crazy-funny. Itty Bitty is crazy-crazy. Crazy-calculating. Crazy-OUCH.

And oh my God she's got the "rub mah belleh" trick down PAT. She'll roll around on her back, all meowing and "pet me! pet me!" but as soon as you rub her belly - WHAM. The claws come out. Shit, cat, that hurts!

But she is a cute little thing. She's been kicked around for months now and really needs a home. And when she meows that little high-pitched meow, it really is endearing. Just don't rub her belly. Heh.