We never knew how crazy calicos were until Mouse adopted us.
One night we heard pitiful meowing outside. Try as we might, we couldn't coax her close. She cried all night in the rose bushes. I had said "we have two cats, we don't have room for more." By the time my partner came home in the morning, I'd cornered her in the rose bushes, and there she was with soft food and fresh water and a blanket to sleep on.
She was full of fleas, injured badly, and emaciated. Her hind legs wouldn't work very well, and she had to be eight weeks old at the most. Then we recognized her... this tiny kitten, child of a neighbor's neglected pet, had braved dog and cat attacks and cold just to get to us. We had to constantly hold her because she couldn't keep her body temperature stable.
But she rallied, and is now the sassiest, craziest calico huntress you could ever hope to meet. Mouse earned her name because of her tiny voice. We love her and she loves us. Her siblings are still uncatchable strays, but she has been spayed and has her forever home.