Millie (AKA Haiku) and Queso

For two years in a row, March served as cat acquisition month in our household. This month, we officially celebrate two years of Millie (formerly Haiku) and one year of Queso in our family.

Millie and Queso are quite the complementary pair. They share a playful streak, a penchant for snuggles, a voracious appetite, and a fundamental inability to grasp the concept of personal space. They are our little shadows, following us from room to room and sticking their noses into whatever we’re doing (figuratively and literally). On the rare occasions they’re out of sight, we can usually still hear them, as they are both very vocal and love to meow, chirp, or sometimes just scream for fun.

They are also both cuddlers; as soon as we sit down, one or both of them hop immediately into our laps. Millie likes it when we stretch our legs out in front of ourselves, allowing her to sit on our shins with her back toward us—her way of pretending to be aloof while still cuddling. She does not tolerate being picked up. On the rare occasions I need to carry her somewhere, I have found the most effective method to be tucking her in the crook of my arm like a fluffy football, feet down; any other position, and she claws her way free, displaying no scruples about any scratches she leaves in the process.

Queso, on the other hand, craves constant affection in all forms. Unlike Millie, he goes limp the moment we pick him up and is perfectly content to dangle from our hands while we carry him away (usually to cat jail after he makes a grab for our dinner) or to be curled up and held like a baby. He, too, will jump on us the moment we sit down, but he prefers to sit on our chests, where he has easy access to nuzzle our faces.

Their relationship to each other is as adorable as it is amusing. They often snuggle and groom each other (Millie’s favorite method for cuddling Queso is to just sit on him), though they also fight like siblings. Their fights usually start out playfully, but Millie, being the less athletic of the pair, quickly gets fed up with Queso using his long limbs and superior reach against her. (Queso, it is worth noting, is freakishly agile, even among cats, and pursues his “prey” with ruthless single-mindedness; I have seen him leap two-thirds of the distance to the ceiling to snatch his favorite feather toy out of the air, flipping and twisting midair to make the catch. Sometimes, he sticks the landing. Sometimes, he is so focused on the game that he crashes into furniture or the wall. This doesn’t seem to bother him.) That doesn’t stop Millie from initiating play with Queso, though, when the mood strikes her. Queso is a good sport and even takes it easy on her sometimes, letting her get in a few good hits and the occasional tackle before scampering away to hide beneath a chair and plan her next attack.

As all cat people know, cats are all little weirdos, and Millie and Queso are no exceptions. They have enormous personalities stuffed into tiny, 10-pound bodies and provide us with constant entertainment. In fact, we hardly ever turn on the TV, because when we’re home in the evenings, we so frequently end up just watching the cats zoom around the house, playing and getting into mischief. We can’t imagine our home without them, and we are so grateful to WAIF for bringing these little goofballs into our lives!

Karina and Nate