The tabby is named Winston after George Winston.  And the black kitty is named Brickman after Jim Brickman.  Both are new age pianists.  Yes, we have the musician pet name theme going on here.  Winston is the alpha animal of the house.  The Big Boss.  Brick is the resident scaredy cat.  She hides under the covers when the vacuum comes out and she'll stay there all day.

Winston has the food thing figured out.  Whoever is up first feeds them a small spoonful of canned food.  Then she'll cry at her food dish to whoever is up second that she hasn't eaten yet.  Grandma comes over after coffee to visit Corrine and Winnie will tell her that she is starving and these people just aren't feeding me.  This has been going on since Bryan and I got married five years ago.  It took him a month or so to say something to me about not feeding them before I left in the morning.  We still laugh at how convincingly she meows.

They are snugglers.  Many a night I'll wake up in the middle of the night to find them both snuggled next to me.  And sometimes right on top of me.  They are also being very tolerant of a now two year old petting them.  Both are talkers.  They both like their heads scratched.  Brickman loves tummy rubs.   Brickman will sleep in the closet on Corrine's baby blankets if you let her.  She also has a box under C's crib in front of the heater vent.

Winston barely tolerates the dogs.  Brickman just ignores them.  Henley (the Newf) follows them around the house.  Winnie hisses, although sometimes it is half heartedly.  Brick again just ignores them.  Henley licks her, she just cleans herself, with a look of disgust at the dog cooties.  He tries the same thing with Winnie and she smacks him.  And yes.  She has her claws.

It's a crazy house full of pet hair.  But I wouldn't change it for the world.