I have two charges adopted from a rescue. They run the house and also my heart.
Willie is an active and affectionate little guy. His name comes from his fascination with watching hockey games on tv. He puts any little toy in a plastic grocery bag and puts the bag and the toy in his mouth so he can triumphantly strut around the house and hide his spoils. But when Willie is sleepy, he climbs up on my lap to reach up and lick my collar and purr until he falls asleep.
Mazie, on the other hand, is not as affectionate. Her name is an adaptation of the Marvelous Mrs. Maizel. There are times when she reaches up with both front paws like a young child does to be picked up. When I hold her, she scopes out her next area to investigate. She explores every nook and cranny of the house and often gets herself into a "stuck" predicament. Her behavior is actually a lot like Mrs. Maizel's! She has her favorite toy to toss and chase until she hides it so Willie can't get it. She's a little chub but still wiggles herself under the couch because Willie Puck won't go under.
I've had many cats over my life that I still love, even though they are now only memories. After the passing of my husband and the passing 7 months later of the last cat I had, I swore never to get another cat. But as time passed, I decided to adopt again and found these two happy little tuxedo kittens. They're what I needed to get grounded again and live in the present. I care deeply about them and will continue to do so. My babies will be a year old in a few months and together we can be a family of mutual care and love. Yes, they belong to me, but I belong to them.