Nina made me say it. She would have killed me if I didn't. Please god, tell my family I love them...
We are servants, the few who choose this life. We wait their furry beck and call, providing food, scooping their excrement with a rake, brushing and petting them when they allow it.
We are cat owners, some of us cat lovers (we are also masochists).
"Oh, you've gone out? I don't give a shit, get out. Leave me alone, I'll be sleeping. You sure as fuck better fill my food bowl first, though. Dirty human..."
On a serious note, let's discuss the furry guys and gals. How did we come upon the pets we have? [strike]What did we do to deserve this?[/strike] Were they adopted, bought, or rescued? Inherited? Some tips for fellow cat owners would be nice too, since in dealing with our lords and masters, we have undoubtedly uncovered things that they like, and may help us avoid being killed in our sleep.
This is Fred. She's a gentle giant (by giant, I mean "biggest cat in the house." She's not all that huge). Yes, she's a girl named Fred. The original owners thought she was a boy at first, until she grew a couple months older. The name just stuck.
This is Nina, Fred's sister. They're 6, and while Fred likes to jump up and lie on my side, Nina growls when you pick her up. If you can actually get her to purr, she will also drool. It's gross. Also, funny. I adopted them together shortly after I moved, and they have been great cats for the past 6 years.
Spoilered for cute (and big):
This is Sienna, eating my finger. She's kind of a bitch but she's also a whore for men. She doesn't like women much at all... but with me, or any other guy, when sitting down she will run and jump on your chest, and rub her head on your face. I rescued her when she was a kitten... she was being attacked by a skunk, and when I threw a rock at the skunk and scared it away, she followed me home. We tried to get her a home, but by the time we could, we were attached.
And this is Roscoe, the only other source of testosterone in the house. He's around 7 months now, and is another rescue. One of my wife's coworkers (who is an asshole) decided that they couldn't afford to keep him. Then they decided that a vet putting him down was cheaper than bringing him to a shelter. It is cheaper, but it also makes you an asshole. We took him, and he's a little terror. All that shit kittens do? Scratching at things, running around the house, attacking feet? 24/7. But we love him anyway.
So now, this thread demands more pictures, stories, info, and advice. Have at it.