The first one, on the top left, is named Poco. She just started coming to our house a few years ago, and we took her in. The second one, in the middle of the top row, was named Lucy. I don't remember much about her, but I recall her being run over several years ago.
The grey one on the top right is the one that often visits our house. We don't know his name, but he hasn't been fixed, he belongs to someone up the street, and from what we can tell, he hasn't been let in all winter, and winters in Maine are pretty harsh.
The one in the middle row on the left is named Toby. His story is rather odd. We were at the local "Art in the Park", looking for the art from schools in the city, where some of my stuff was. We were looking at some stuff on the way out, and there was a commotion in the corner of the park. At first I thought something had happened with the ducks that live at the pond that time of year, but then we saw this tiny orange kitten running around. A woman stopped him and picked him up. She told us she was looking for someone to take him, because she didn't want him for whatever reason (*Coughs and points to the fact he was running around like nuts*). Of course, my father wouldn't have it, but after a few minutes, my father gave up and agreed to get him. Of course, we didn't bring the carrier, so he was running around and spazzing out in the car. In the end, we brought him home and renamed him Toby, after one of my mother's old cats. His first name was Pancake. Imagine a pancake fighting with the cat on the bottom right, Buddy. Interesting thought, hmm? XD
The one in the very center was Sandy. She was my best friend ever since Bear, the one below her, died. She was so sweet. If it hadn't been for her, I probably would have given up and ended everything. I owe everything to her and Bear. Then, one day, she got very sick. She got smaller by the day, smaller and weaker. We had to put her to sleep, because she had Kidney Cancer, and we didn't want her to suffer. Even now, I still see her spirit sometimes, when I most need her.
The last one in the middle row is one my mother knew as a child. It had a birth defect, and only had one half of it's heart, but it played very hard. It would sometimes turn slightly blue when it did this. It died after a while, but I thought that the story of how it didn't let the defect hold it back was really sweet.
The one on the bottom left actually isn't alive in the true sense of the word. She's a little stuffed cat doll I had when I was in day care. I would bring her there every day, and every time, I would lay her at my feet, at the bottom of the couch. I never saw her doing it, but it would end up moving to the other side of the room and under a little elevated bookshelf, even when I was the only one in the room. I still have her today, and I can't help but wonder, even now... Is it real?
The one in the middle of the bottom row was Bear. She was my best friend when I was little. Whenever I was sad, it was like she could sense it. She would come and comfort me, listen to everything I said, and it was like she spoke to me too. Then one day, she died. Sandy realized that, and she became the "New Bear". Even though she wasn't the same, I really appreciated it.
And that leaves... Buddy. Boy, his story is odd. He was a local stray from when I was about two. I called him my "Buddy", and the name stuck. We took him in that winter. Over time, he's had his tail run over, been attacked by a fox (From what we can tell), and had his head crushed between a car and our neighbor's garage. And oddly enough, he's still alive today, and fights with Toby on a daily basis. And every time, he comes out on top. No power struggle there, huh?
