We are, to put it mildly, a cat intensive household. Between myself and my two roommates, we have five. Since it is in their contracts that they will be making periodic appearances, let me intoduce them.
Loki is the only one who is, essentially, mine (although I am a minority stockholder in all of them). He is our second oldest, at 12. He was a stray who just wandered in the front door one afternoon and said ‘this looks nice, think I’ll stay’. I have always named all my cats after gods and heroes of antiquity, having had a Belshazzar, a Wotan, etc. I’m not sure about having named Loki after the Norse god of mischief, though. He tends to try to live up to his name.
My one roommate (name not used to protect the guilty) has the distinction of being the prime companion of our household’s youngest (Beau, almost 3) and oldest (Cyra, 15) kitties. Beau, as you can tell from his photo, is a real pistol, always full of beans (how’s that for a mixed metaphor?) An accomplished destroyer of Cat Cubes, he seems to have the limitless energy I wish I had. Nissa is Beau’s mother and Skillywidden is his Aunt. Nissa, a feral, who we had been feeding outdoors for a bit brought her newborn kittens to us and we brought them inside and found them homes. Beau we kept.
Cyra is an incredibly sweet kitty, although at times she can be a grumpy old git. She was born at Dreher Park Zoo, to a stray that vanished, leaving the litter to be found by the keepers. All were rescued and found homes. Cyra had to be bottle fed, as did Beau. When she was a kitten I used to take her with me (on a leash) to pick up my roomie at the zoo. She loved to sit on the roof of the car in the parking lot sniffing the air and often got as much attention as the zoo’s inhabitants.
Nissa and Skillywidden, belonging to my other roommate, are sisters, though if you didn’t know, you’d never guess. Skillywidden is not really startled in this picture, that is her natural expression. I often refer to her as “the good sister” since she very rarely ever causes trouble. Skilly is just so happy to be indoors in the (comparative) lap of luxury, that she just loves everybody and everything. Except maybe the broom. She’s still a bit dubious about that.
Nissa, unfortunately, still has a touch of the feral about her and so is a little more aggressive, but she’s learning. When they were outside she was always Skillywidden’s protector, a role she still fulfills right up to today, even though it’s no longer necessary. She’s a tiny thing (roomie calls her his ‘vest pocket Maine Coon’) but packs quite a wallop. The only cat she won’t mess with, for some reason, is Cyra.
I’m rather proud of the fact that each of them was either a stray or a feral that we rescued. Though in many instances it wasn’t easy, it was well worth it.
I suppose you could include a sixth we call Mr. Black-and-White, after the colors of his coat. He’s the feral who is Beau’s daddy and looks quite a bit like him. Unfortunately he is so wild he will never be able to be brought inside. After years of feeding him on our patio he still hisses at me and won’t let me closer than a couple of feet, unless the newels of the patio railing are between us. He never shows during daylight, so I feed him at 4 am, hence I have no picture. I’m afraid the flash would frighten him away, and the main idea is to let him eat in peace.