(I have real pictures of them, but I'm still figuring out how to get the camera to play nicely with the computer.)
The first one is Queen Henrietta, Mistress of the Universe.
She is a fifteen year-old kitten.
She is completely perfect and I am her mother.
This one is Wolfgang Amadeus Pusscat, The Siamese Pimpernell. (Wolfie)
"They seek him here, they seek him there. Those Frenchies seek him everywhere."
We don't know why the French are after him, but they are.
They'll never get him because he is very, very smart and careful.
He's a rescued feral, and only coddles with us on the bed or living room floor.
Otherwise he doesn't know us (it could be a trick — you can't be too careful.)
This is Motley.
He was mysteriously sick, and so got fixed late.
He thinks he is a Tomcat, but he is really a puffball.
He has more weird chirrupy noises than any other cat I've known.
Doesn't say meow, though.
This is Silmarilion, known as Silmi, or Silly (or Slimy).
We inherited her.
She is a tortie.
She will sit on you. Now, damn it.
Ohn and she drools.