The current owners of my heart were rescued as little kittens from a feral colony in Edison, New Jersey, by a lovely lady named Lisa who fostered them for a shelter called Angel P.A.W.S. in Colonia.

Clancy (left) and Ciara (right) got their names because, well, Clancy just had to be Irish with his ginger red coloring. So I searched and searched and found that Clancy in Gaelic is a red or ruddy warrior. (Well, okay, so he's not much of a warrior. He's more of a, well, pussycat. But hey, it works as a name.) That left me trying to find a good name for the little girl kitty. If I could have found a name that means feisty mischevious lap cat in Gaelic, I'd have used that, but I settled on Ciara, which means black or dark, since she has a perfect black nose, black toes and black tip of her tail.

Like all the cats who have ever owned me, they rule the roost. They let me live here as long as I feed them, clean their litter boxes and pay the mortgage...

Before these kittens, I was owned by two gorgeous solid white cats named Mist and Snow, who were born in April 1990 on a farm in Virginia. They had the congenital deafness that often accompanies light-colored eyes and solid white fur. They graced my home and my life for 16 and 17 years respectively. On the morning of June 19, 2006, Mist crossed the Rainbow Bridge, and on the afternoon of April 20, 2007, Snow joined her there...