These are who DH and I answer to.
This is Booger.
It's hard to explain about Booger because I always get caught up having to explain her name. See, technically, she's my daughter's cat. But when my daughter moved out of my home, she couldn't take her with her to her new digs. Then when I moved to San Francisco, Booger came with me.
She was my daughter's 18th birthday present. At first she named her Michelle, which I thought was kind of odd. I'm not all that keen on naming cats people names. (Which may seem incongruous when you meet my next cat, George.)
One day DD came home and scooped the kitten up off the floor and put her on her shoulder at eye level and said, "Hi, there, Booger!" It was meant to be a term of endearment.
But then the aha! light came on in her eyes and despite my protests, the name stuck.
For several years, I was too embarrassed to tell the vet what her real name was. So in Los Angeles, the vet has her on file as "Baby" (my last name).
When I moved to San Francisco, I decided I'd better own up and tell the new vet the truth or I'd forget one day and regret it. When I told the vet's assistant, she said, "We have a few of those."
Booger is half Siamese. You can't tell it by looking at her, but you could if you heard her. She talks a lot. She's really bossy. She bosses all of us around, including the other, older cat, George.
This is George.
George was one of a pair originally. She and her litter mate sister were "twins" of a sort. They had similar markings and the patches, but the black on George's face is on her left side and the black on her sister's face was on the right. I called them our bookends.
The owners of the mother didn't want to separate the two kittens because they were obviously so attached to one another. They were so attached that for the first year of their life, only once were they in separate rooms and that was an accident. When they found out, they both jumped up and high-tailed it toward each other and lay panting in each others' paws for the narrow escape!
Well, the sister went missing after a year or so. Later, we found her a couple of miles from where we lived in someone else's yard. Apparently she had either been picked up by someone else or had adopted another family. By then, she and George didn't recognize each other.
Yes, George is female. Another long story. I will tell it some other time.
These are cat toys
There are more toys than this. I got tired of finding them in odd places after the cleaning people vacuumed -- and of stepping on them -- and finally collected them all in a basket. The cats come select the ones they want and scatter them around the apartment, but we pick them up faithfully once a week.