My Goofballs

I have two cats, named Bullet and Bowie. They are the epitome of endearing entertainment and ridiculousness. I inherited Bullet from some friends and he is unlike any cat I've ever met. In fact, he's more like a dog. He listens and obeys, loves car rides, and will go on walks with us. He is very active, loves to play and will even join in on a form of "hide n seek." I will run and hide somewhere and he will come looking for me. When he finds me, I pop out and he runs away, and we do it all over again. The shape of Bullet's brow makes him look permanently grumpy, but he's a sweetheart. Bowie is my other cat. He got his name after I posted on social media asking for advice on what name to give him. David Bowie had just recently passed and someone suggested naming him after the legend, so I did. The name is fitting because this cat is a space cadet and many of David Bowie's songs reference space. "Major Tom" comes to mind. He doesn't listen and obey as well as his brother, but I think it's because he's somewhere in the cosmos most of the time. Bowie will often sleep with his mouth half-open and his head tilted back. It looks hilarious in person. He is also lazy and prefers to sit back and watch his brother wig out from catnip. The funny thing about the two of them is how different they are with other creatures. Bullet is a softie. If he finds a spider in the house, he will lightly pat it and escort it across the room with careful focus. Bowie, on the other hand, is a cold-blooded murderer and will eat the spider then and there. They are my goofballs and they cheer me up when life is tough. I love them dearly and I enjoy their quirky personalities.