I have one large brown grumpy male tabby cat (Angus), on much smaller grumpy brown female tabby cat (Enoch), and one utterly banal happy gigantic grey tabby cat (Baltar).
Here is a picture of them. I added too much water when i did the wash for this and it dried in a really excellent way so i left it on there.
I have painted them here too – this was the painting I did after I got that horrifying migrane. The cats all spent the day curled up on me asleep. THEY thought it was a good day!
Angus was born in the back of a Ute in Dingley (a very 1970s suburb of Melbourne) in a factory carpark. When I adopted him as a kitten, I decided to give him the sort of name that a bogan would call their kid, cause being born in a car in a parts factory, is pretty bogan. I called him Angus, after Angus Young from ACDC. I don’t even like ACDC that much! I’m fond of this song though, and the video clip is them driving down a 70s version of Bourke St in Melbourne and that is pretty excellent picking the bits that have changed and which have not. Angus thinks he’s human and he thinks he’s my boyfriend. My creepy stalker boyfriend. I’ve never had a cat that held a grudge before or punished me by sulking, he’s a very funny animal. Also large, ungainly, and tends to fall off things he tries to jump on. You would assume at 8 years old you’d know to compensate for your back legs and weight when jumping onto something, but nooooooo.
Angus looking annoyed:
A painting of me and angus together:
Angus turns up in this painting to of knitters, in the front right. I’ve had angus the longest. I think I’m remiss in not painting the others as much, now! *mother guilt*
Enoch came to me as a boy kitty. Two vets had already identified her as a male and the first I heard otherwise was when she was on the table being de-sexed and my vet said ‘Erm. This is a girl’. By that point she’d already gotten used to her name so why change it! Gender in cats is a pointless concept anyway if you de-sex them. I named her after Enoch Root in Neil Stephenson’s book, Cryptonomicon. She is a somewhat unfriendly cat but I get purrs out of her as long as no one else is around. She has an unusually small head, thus she looks a bit odd. She was another adoption as a kitten, a friend moved into a house and we presume her mother was the deceased prior owner’s cat who littered just after they moved in. My friend adopted the mother cat and three of us each took a kitten.
Enoch of the teeny tiny head:
Baltar was a cat from the dog rescue people, my cousin (who rehomed angus to me) took a litter of little grey kittens from a flooded town a few years ago. I had no intention of another cat but I visited her and there were four adorable kittens peering at me from the couch so Baltar came home with him. He is named after Gaius Baltar from Battlestar Gallactica. He’s from the country, I assume he has horse in him cause he’s as big as one. He’s still growing but instead of general size it’s just his giant tummy now. Hates being picked up, loves and adores a pat. Also likes to be smacked while you pat him – almost as much as this cat.
Baltar sleeping in a dignified position: