I would like to introduce you to my little sister Pelusa. Pelusa is one years old. She is one of two pets that my host family currently has. The other is an 8 year old dog named Carnelo.
One week ago, Pelusa's mother died. Also, all of her brothers a sisters died during their birth, so she is the only one left of " la familia Gato." Before you pull out your tissues, I have to tell you that this has not stopped Pelusa from being a rambunchious, fun loving, creature. As you can probably imagine, she personifies the role of a "little sister" and takes this title very seriously, no matter how much I protest.
(In case you were wondering, those black spots on her face and arms aren't natural. Yesterday Pelusa decided to mess with Carnelo and sought refugee on the newly painted fence. LOL)
Pelusa and I currently have a love hate relationship. As some of you may know, I am allergic to cats (and dogs). My host family is doing a really good job of keeping the animals away from me as much as possible because they understand how difficult it can be for someone with asthma and allergies to live with pets.
Carnelo, the family pooch, understands this. He spends all of his days outside protecting the family from birds and bugs. Ocassionaly he sniffs around me and whines for me to pick him up but when I say "afuera" (go away) he quickly obeys. Pelusa, on the other hand, does not seem to understand my condition.
Pelsua is in love with me! No this is not an over exaggeration. Every where I go, Pelusa is hiding two steps behind me, waiting patiently for the day that I will reach down and touch her. It's almost like she thinks that my screaming and yelling at her is just a front for my true feelings. Nothing phases her.
Pelusa's goal, since the day I came into the house, has been to make me love her as much as she loves me. Even when I go in a room and close a the door to keep her away, she sits and bangs her head against the door until I come out or someone comes and gets her. The other night it was so bad that my host mother had to get out of bed and lock Pelusa in the restroom for fear that she would knock her brains out.
For the last three days Pelsua and i have been playing this exhausting game of "who is the fastest". There are two phases to this game:
Phase one is a test of sheer running ability. When she sees me coming, she gets into her hunting position and takes off running to my door. The goal of this phase is for Pelusa to try and beat me into my room before I close the door.
Although there have been a few injuries (mainly on the part of Pelusa's head being caught in the door) this part of the game is the easiest. I am the current victor of phase one.
The second phase is a test of flight and sheer strenght. When I go into the living room to sit down, she takes a few laps around the room and then pretends like she's going to lay down on the floor. As soon as I get comfortable on the couch, Pelusa leaps into the air, heading straight toward me. The goal of this phase is for Pelusa to land in or as close to my lap as possible. Almost like a kitty version of shot put.
My host mother's pillows have proven to be the perfect weapon during this phase, but alas, Pelusa usually wins.
Even though Pelusa is a pain, I have to admit that the chiquita is growing on me. She most definetly has the Puss and boots syndrome: When ever I yell at her she just sits and looks at me with her big beautiful eyes until I fall to putty. What can I say, I'm a sucker for pretty babies!
Pelusa: 4, Mitzi: 3
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