A Beautiful Caliby Cat Tells Her Heartfelt Homecoming Story

This is Ivory’s story as she would tell it. As her typist, I merely took dictation from her.

As a shelter cat, I had it easier than most. I spent my days playing with my brother and waiting by the store window as humans walked by. I watched them “oohing and ahhing” over us, waiting for someone to choose me.

I was taking a nap the day it happened. 

Two cats walking on their hind legs stopped at my window. (I found out these kinds of cats are actually humans.) They stepped into the zone where only employees were allowed. Looking at me, then my identification card, they whispered to each other. 

I could tell they were discussing me. 

One said “dilute calico”, the other said “female”. The first one said, “I’m going to apply”. Whatever that means. 

Then, just like all the others before, they walked out and left me here. I went back to sleep.

The next day the same humans returned. 

One of them talked to the tall man in charge and he opened my cage. She cuddled me briefly and stuffed me into a carrier. 

What could this mean? 

I had been on car rides before, but usually, there was some kind of tell-tale sign. A bunch of us cats, people gathering carriers, the familiar employees handling us. 

This time felt different. It was just me and these new humans.

We traveled for what seemed like a long time. The two humans talked to each other and to me. I tried to talk back, but I didn’t know their language. I said “meow” and they seemed to accept that. 

The humans were calm and quiet. Peaceful and kind. I decided not to fight and see what might happen.

When we stopped, a doctor’s assistant came to get me and took me in to see the doctor. I was afraid it was a trick. The clinic staff marveled at my coat and took a bit of my blood. It was a quick visit and they took me back to the humans waiting in the car. 

They waited on me! These humans keep coming back. Something about that felt different. 

We sat in the car together, the humans talking and petting me through the carrier.

Yikes! The loud phone ringing scared me. 

One of those voices I met in the clinic said I was cleared to go home. No feline leukemia or HIV. And told the humans I am not a dilute calico but a Caliby! 

Of course, I knew that all along, but at least now the humans knew too.

I am a member of the Caliby Nation.

They tell me I am special. Neither full calico nor tabby, but an interesting blend of the two. I have all the different colors of calico, but my calico spots are striped like a tabby.

But what about this new home? What did “cleared to go home” mean? I would soon find out.

My first view of this new home was one room. Even this one room was bigger than anything I had ever lived in. I had my own water bowl, dry food, wet food, and litter box. 

Too scared to explore, I stayed under the bed. The humans were nice to me. They sat near me and talked softly. 

They introduced me to my new name, Ivory Petunia. The shelter named me Petunia, but that name didn’t really fit how I felt about myself inside. Within a day or so, my new humans started calling me Ivy. 

Yes! That fit. I could live with that.

After a while of peering out at my new room from under the human’s bed, I ventured out to get a snack and go to the box. 

Wait, are those toys? There were more toys than I had seen in my whole life. The humans played with the toys and tossed them to me. Tilting my head, I stared at them. What was this new game? I wanted to play. What fun!

Even though this was the biggest place I had ever lived, I got the sense there was more. I could hear and smell other felines. Sometimes I even thought I heard them at the door, talking and wanting in. 

The humans would come into my room several times a day and one would stay with me at night. It was a tall bed and hard to jump up on, so most of the time, I stayed in the cat bed under the human’s bed. 

It was still better than the shelter.

After I got used to the sounds and smells, my door was opened. I could explore the rest of the place. 

I was right. There is room after room after room to this house. I am allowed to go anywhere except the kitchen counter.

I got to meet the other cats too. None of them are from the Caliby Nation. There are three tabbies and a tortie. 

One of the tabbies is very old. I’ve never seen anyone so old. She is nice to me but she moves too slow to play. 

At first, the yellow tabby and the gray tabby were nervous around me. I think they forgot what it was like to have all this kitten energy even though yellow is barely older two years older than me. 

 Gray is pretty serious most of the time. After we got to know each other though, she is a lot of fun. We play chase through the whole house every day.

The tortie is a cat unto herself. Right after I got here, she got really sick. The humans were worried and then all of us cats were worried. 

Tortie went to the doctor a couple of times and the second time she didn’t come back home for almost three days. We were all scared.

When she came home, the humans took her to a quiet room to recover. I tried to talk to her through the door but she was still too sick to talk. After a week or so, she could come downstairs with the rest of us and she seemed to get better. She still doesn’t like to play with me, but I entertain her the best I can. 

I think we will be friends someday.

So this is what “home” means. Already I love it here. The humans take good care of all of us and tell me this is my forever home. 

When I asked the other cats how long they have lived here, it is a long time — even the old cat. 

I believe them when they say I am home.