For no particular reason, here is a picture of my cats. The one on the left is named Katie. The one on the right is Niya.
Katie greets us when we come home by rolling on the floor. When the mood strikes her, she loves to play fetch. At best, she tolerates Niya's existence, though sometimes she goes way out of her way to bat Niya on the head.
Niya is good at figuring out how to open doors. When she feels that she's "won" at a game, she'll drag her toy round and round the room in a triumphant procession. If she's suspicious of a new object, she's quite adept at boxing it. Niya sometimes will watch TV for a few minutes and at times, I've had to accomodate her by not changing the channel if she seems interested in what's on. Niya's the copycat, emulating what Katie is doing.
Both love to chase ice around on the kitchen floor. Neither support my writing, but rather stand outside the office door and meow their heads off. If I let Katie in, she'll jump between me and the monitor. Katie prefers my wife and will beg for her to pick her up, or will jump in her lap when watching television. Niya will get in my lap when reading or watching TV, and put her head on my chest, but then, she'll do the same to my wife. In fact, though Niya doesn't spurn me, I think it's a matter of opportunity. If both my wife and I are available, she'll choose my wife over me. I suspect they view her as a mother figure and the supreme authority.
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