There are two faces in my life that never, ever fail to make me smile:

They came into my wife’s and my life eight years ago, when they were just itty-bitty kittens at the local animal shelter. We had been “petless” for a few years following the passing of our sweet dog, and when we finally decided to get another pet, my wife asked me if we could get a cat this time.

Sure, I said. I love cats and dogs, along with a few other animals. Animals are increasingly becoming much more favorable company to me than people. Draw your own conclusion from that.

Anyway, we started our cat search, which eventually led us to the shelter where these two sweet black kittens were. They were sisters. The lady at the shelter told us black cats were usually the last ones to get adopted; they were deemed not as pretty as other cats, people were superstitious, etc. We said, enthusiastically, “We love black cats!” We think they’re beautiful, and besides, my brother-in-law had one that was the coolest cat I’d ever known. (Here’s to you, Nicky; you were sumthin’ else.)

We hadn’t originally planned to get more than one, but these two were family, and so sweet together, so we decided we couldn’t break up the team; we had to have both of them. And so it came to pass that we took Lizzy and Izzy – the names we gave them – home that day.

We always ask ourselves now what we ever did before we had cats. They have added so much joy and hilarity to our lives.

(Incidentally, if someone else asks what we did before cats, my standard reply is, “Had nicer furniture.”)

 

It’s amazing how animals can have distinct personalities, just like people. Izzy’s the happy-go-lucky, personable, attention-hungry, loudmouth chatterbox. I mean, she can go on and on and on!! She will not be denied when she wants something, usually lots of hands-on treatment. She’s hyper, too; about the only time she holds still is when she’s sleeping, which she loves to do under the covers, so she can stay toasty-warm.

 

Lizzy is the more moody one. She’s as sweet as can be, but she doesn’t seek attention as much as Izzy. Really, she kinda goes through phases where she either wants no attention or a lot. You’re affectionate to her on her terms.

Also, she gets pissed at Izzy pretty regularly. These two are so jealous for Mom and Dad’s attention, and when Lizzy’s getting it, Izzy just can’t help being a pest and trying to get some, too. That’s when Lizzy hisses at her. Although, she has been known to hiss at Izzy for no other reason than just being in the same room as her. (Poor Izzy)

They have their similarities, though. They both love getting in boxes, large bags, (Lizzy especially loves those) and laundry baskets. Anytime we bring home something new, whether it’s for them or not, they have to investigate it right away; our little detectives. Even if we move a piece of furniture from one place to another, they’re inspecting it like something they’ve never seen before. They like lounging in any part of the house where the sun is shining in. (Got to maintain their tans, don’t ya know?) They like chasing each other through the house, at breakneck speed. They both like playing ball;  if you roll a ball to them, they’ll slap it away, like feline soccer pros.

And they’re both really interested in what my wife and I are eating. We don’t feed it to them, but they certainly act willing to eat it. Lizzy’s interested in chips; Izzy has what my wife and I call “chocolate radar”, which reliably goes off anytime one of is having something chocolate.

They’re a great comedy duo. Sometimes, my wife and I will be watching TV, and we’ll quit and just watch these two instead, because they’re much more entertaining. (Of course, for a lot of TV, that’s not saying much, but I digress.) I tell them all the time that they’re a riot.

And they’re so graceful. They just jump up wherever they want and make it look absolutely effortless. We just watch in amazement.

Sure, sometimes they do something we wish they hadn’t – my wife has dubbed them The Little Devils for their mischievous antics – but we can’t really get mad at them, because they’re just so darned cute. One look at those sweet faces, and we’re just putty.

And they know it; I’m sure of it.

They’ve got us right where they want us. It’s their house; we just live in it. It’s like the saying goes, “Dogs have masters, cats have servants.”

But, trust me, we don’t mind a bit.