Tiffany, also known as the third bass. In fact, we can’t put a bass there. On the heating floor, she gets all warm in this spot. Sometimes, the temperature gets to a point where she transforms into a rising loaf of bread.
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Fantastic! 
Number of cats should be something like:
Number of basses you own + 1
Good excuse to get more basses (or cats) 
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Here’s the run down of names: First off there’s Tso (short for General Tso). That’s my husband Chad’s cat. I’m just a placeholder for when he’s not around. Seriously. Those two are like glue together. Honest. They love each other so so much. And she’s a very needy tortoise shell too with a very tortoise shell attitude…which I affectionately call tortitude!!! She is also very psycho haha. You should see her with her kittens Steele (named after Peter Steele from Type o Negative, she’s also grey), Wonton (who’s kinda dense the poor fella he ain’t very bright. He literally sat on thin air once and fell off a table, he’s also the one that LOVES his cheese wrapper and what we call his saddle. It’s literally a wash cloth that Chad has been putting on him since he was a kitten and he wears it plus plays with it while he’s in the dry tub), and Church (he’s the REALLY fluffy/fuzzy one I swear he’s got Maine Coon in him, he’s also named after Church from Pet Sematery 
You can definitely tell who named who outta the bunch!!! Along with mama and her three kittens we also have…White Castle (the white fluffy one…I think she’s a ragdoll we found her outside), Soup (he’s the spittin’ image of Wonton hence the name Soup. He’s also an outside cat no relation whatsoever to Wonton but they look exactly the same), Voodoo (the Haitian’s across the street were being really rough with her), and Sasha (she’s the Russian Blue…I’ve always loved and had a soft spot for Russian Blue’s. I had lost a Russian Blue named Sammy Sam. Had her for 14 wonderful years. I love her and miss her dearly…so very much. So fast forward to a bunch of years later and Chad got me Sasha for my birthday on December 1st. He said that it was time for me to get another Russian Blue. He had kept the whole thing a secret and under wraps for months bein’ all cloak and dagger and secret phone calls and emails and everything. He talked to the lady at the pet store and planned everything to a T. Get to the day of and we took a trip to the pet store and I thought we were just getting pet food or something but as soon as we rounded the corner and I saw Sasha I fuckin’ lost it and started bawling I can’t believe he was able to pull all that off without a hitch!!! He was prepared to travel 2 1/2 or 3 hours away just to get me my Russian Blue but instead we only had to take a trip a short distance away to get her…Then I got him his dog Artemis (I thought it was an omen. I mean hell the dog is named after the goddess that I worship) nope. Nope, the dog hates me. She gets all angry and has an attitude with me whenever I’m around Chad and she’s SUPER protective of him. That Puddle of Mudd song “She fuckin’ hates me” well that is constantly going through my head when I’m around her which is all the time. Whenever he’s at work she literally just sleeps all day when it’s just her and I. He had always wanted a large dog all of his own and so I just deal with her grumblings. As you can tell those two have a super close bond and they have since the very beginning…which is exactly what I wanted. They make each other so incredibly happy and love each other so very much and that, in turn, makes me happy.
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Kitties!! So many kitties!! 
Love them all.
I have 4 cats
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The image at the lower right…she’s clearly plotting something.
That is a pretty typical expression for a cat that is formulating nefarious activity. Mind you, they strive to feign boredom or indifference—the better to confuse the humans—but there are some subtle but important distinctions.
You might want to hide the car keys for awhile, until this blows over. And protect your passwords. It’s all fun and games until Amazon shows up with $17,000 worth of Churu treats and your credit card company is holding on line two.
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It was softer than that. I was trying to study for an exam and she went like « nope ». She has retired from the extreme stuff. She concentrates on leaving pooplets here and there and sitting on the turn table.
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In my best Blazing Saddles voice:
Litter box? She don’t need no stinkin’ litter box. 
My metal head long haired boy apparently feeds her hair, and they necklacely make the poopies follow her outside the box.
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