It occurred to me that the only time you ever hear about our various cats is if I'm worried about one of them. In fact, we have a healthy population of felines who rarely give us reason to worry. These two cats are not on that list.
The tortise shell in the picture is our oldest resident, Delilah. She's been with us as long as we've been allowed to have cats. Thirteen years ago, a friend who knows I am soft hearted (headed?) called me on her way to an animal shelter and asked me if I wanted a "homely" little kitten. Of course not, but who can say no when one is the only thing standing between an animal and sure euthanasia?
Delilah sees herself as my husband's girlfriend and makes it very plain that I'm interfering in her lovelife whenever she finds me snuggling with him--especially if I'm half in his lap. She frequently perches attop the sofa and grooms him, purring loudly. According to my husband (who is more of a cat person than I am), she calls him her "Sweet Baboo".
We've had a problem with ornaments "falling off" the Christmas tree this year. It was a morning routine to wake up, make coffee, answer e-mail and rehang the scattered snowflakes, santas, angels, candy canes and baubles. I had blamed Theo, our now sadly deceased resident terror. However the day after his departure, I caught Delilah knocking ornaments off the tree and carrying them around the room, batting them about and calling to imaginary kittens to come and practice their hunting. Delilah is the one who used to slip out open doors two or three times a year and disappear for a month at a time, reappearing on the porch or deck as though she'd never been gone (just about the time we'd given up). She's survived being run over a truck and lived to run away, tick fever and respiratory illnesses. These days she prefers warm spots and regular meals inside. Thank God. I can't afford for her to have any more adventures.
Delilah's black and white companion in the picture is Issaac, Daniel's cat. He's seven years old. When he was a kitten, a neighbor was going to drown him and his littermates. Glad we stopped by that day. Isaac has earned the honorary title of " animated soccer ball" due to his fondness for the food dish and preference for long naps over diet and exercise. However, yesterday I caught him helping Delilah to dismantle the tree so perhaps he's finally found an aerobic activity he likes. Isaac is a "puppy cat" who follows Daniel from room to room and mourns him when he's gone to camp. He's not the brightest crayon in the box, but he gives great hugs by wrapping his front legs around our necks and rubbing our faces rythmically while purring loudly. Isaac has gotten outside twice--the first time he made it his business to kill an intruding possum. That one cost us 300.00 in vet bills as the possum understandably objected. A year later one of our dogs (then a new resident/rescue) cornered him under the house and beat him up pretty badly. Another 300.00. He's now the most expensive pet we own and he'll not be going outside ever again. Isaac is worth every penny we've ever spent on him; his devotion to Daniel is something to behold. The two truly need each other.