Tuscany is a three year old tortoise calico, and its hard to believe that when we first moved to Fitchburg she was so very shy. Today she delights my friends with her chatty ways (she really loves to meow and chirp and I've sort of deciphered what they all mean), loves to run laps, and if I leave my ivy plant within reach she will eat it.
I really wish my mother weren't so deathly allergic because Tuscany has many nicknames, one of which is currently Cling Wrap. She is not independent, but rather the exact opposite of. I have taken to wearing my falling apart Fitchburg State hoodie around the house every morning because as soon as I'm in the kitchen making the coffee this cat will use the chairs behind me to climb my back, where she will reside on my shoulder until such time she deems fit to dismount. I can lean into the fridge to get coffee creamer, pour myself a cuppa, sit at my desk, this cat gives no fucks.
I cannot even close the door to take a bath without her crying at the door, so I just leave it open and now she comes in and joins me. I've taken to just bringing an egg or two when I forgo bubbles just to let her have her fun/make me laugh. She also learned to bark at dogs while we lived at Fitchburg, has been caught growling at my neighbors going up the stairs, and will play fetch with a chosen few toys.
In short: I've become convinced so far that this creature is really a dog in a very convincing disguise. A dog who wanted to climb things so bad she turned herself into a cat so she could do just that. She is my constant companion in this crazy thing I currently call life, and I love her ever so for brightening my days, and headbutting me into awakeness every morning.