Like Misha, Pixie is a Memphis kitty. Another stray off the streets near Graceland, rescued by my friend Athena. No thousand-mile-drive for me this time, Pixie was hand delivered by our mutual friend Jason. Her arrival was partially unexpected, and the timing a little stressful, but after a few days, the rest of the team accepted her in, and she has made a place for herself among them.
She is Pixie because, well, look at her. She’s just the cutest little pixie.
And the Willow is, well, just because. Go look it up and figure it out for yourself.
While she usually is just the perfect little picture of innocence, she is a tough little scrapper. She takes no &#!% from anybody, and she does not pull any punches. Although she looks very purry and cuddly, she doesn’t like being held or touched, except on her terms.
All growed-up now, Pixie is still mostly a skittish scaredy-cat. If visitors come, or someone knocks on the door, or she hears the door, or if I come home from work, she goes into hiding for a while. Fifteen or twenty minutes. Then, when she knows it’s safe, she creeps on out to see what’s up.
When I’m working in my home office, she likes to curl around my ankles, doing figure-eights from one leg to the other. She even lets me pet her sometimes! She’s still not big on hugs though.