Cat content

I just had a short phone call with a good friend some minutes ago. When I told him that I actually started a blog, he cracked up and told me I should post pictures of our cats. Of course I sensed he was mocking on something and so he told me that "cat content" is used to describe the typical, crappy blog content of people that post pictures of their pets and tell you how lovely they look and are. Something the world needs to know, especially from strangers.
I promised him to add some cat content and here we go!

This is what a former neighbour, aka the hysteric housewife, called the "grey panther". He is now about 12 years old and still manages to catch adult, seemingly healthy birds. Cats are often accused of being a threat to birds, but a healthy adult bird usually is way too attentive to get caught by a cat, hence most birds caught by cats were going to die anyway or are rather young. And I do agree the latter case is a problem, as much as nest robbery by cats.
He was supposedly abandoned by a chartreux breeder. What really happened we don't know, but he perfectly matches the description of a chartreux in looks and behavior, except for some impurities like slight rings on his tail and the eye color. After straying around in the same area for some time he ended in the animal shelter and after some time in quarantine had the pleasure to be taken home by my girlfriend. He must have really suffered hunger throughout his first 5-6 months, as he jumped on anything eatable in the beginning. Letting the eye slip off him ended in stolen eggs, the funny image of a tomcat carrying a pack of toast in his mouth that's been broader than he was long and stolen potato peel. Yes, he ate potato peel and sometimes even flower soil. When he stole a pack of coffee the hissing sound of the air flowing back into the evacuated package was likely the only thing keeping him from eating that, too. Over time his eager assaults towards anything eatable wore off, though given a good chance he was still a threat to a tasty plate with meat on it.
The only things that make him lose his worldly-wise aura are vacuum cleaners. His preferred places are the bedroom, which is locked because he can open doors if he feels the need for it, my seat in front of the PC and my lap, likely in this order. While he fled at the slightest movement in the beginning he has grown enough trust over the last three years that I now can even pet his belly without him retreating immediately.

His "official" name is Lupo, because he often has the typical look of a wolf, head faced towards the ground while looking forward. He is often referred to as Doctor Katz, though, since I could persuade him to stop hiding in the bookshelf by telling him that he was hiding behind the row with the most trivial literature in the house and that this should be below his standards.
He weighs about six metric pounds and tends to drool quite intensively when he is petted and enjoying it.

This little girl has refused to be called Gizmo and chose to only listen to the name "Mogli", despite being a female. Also coming from the girly side of the household, she was found the best of all women's ex BF lying in the bushes, just some weeks old, after falling down from a balcony on the fourth floor. Being rather shy in general, she immediately crawled from under the sofa and meowed loudly when the best of all women entered the room. This was the start of a life long, intense relationship. She's mommy's cat. Even after I took care of her for three months while the best of all women's household had moved without the woman, she immediately was joyfully running around mommy's feet when she saw her. Say again cats would be just focused on places and not people...
She's now 20, completely deaf since a year and needs a slight bit of heart medication. Recently she stopped taking car of her hair which leaves this unenjoyable task for her to me. Despite that you couldn't tell her age, not even from her still complete teeth. She never really hunted anything, likely because she never needed to and her ancestry is made of indoor cats only. Unlike the tomcat vacuum cleaners never scared her, but instead anything with a small electric motor. The electric toothbrush was an agonizing threat back when she could hear.
After going deaf she really amazed me by learning to decide whether mommy follows her by looking into the mirroring windows in the evening. She might not have any idea that she sees a reflection of herself and who walks behind her, but depending on what she sees or sees not, she is able to decide whether to turn around and meow or not. Believe me, I tried to find better explanations, but after witnessing this more than a dozen times I am sure that she really judes by the window reflection. And she's learned that at the age of 19.