The way Miranda tilts her head at last 90 degrees when she is watching
something interesting, like a finger scratching under the covers. Her
head tilts and tilts and tilts to the side, and then she gives a big
yawn, as if she wasn't interested at all, no, no, not in the least.

The way Caliban is fascinated by the water flushing in the toilet. He
stands on his hind feet with his elbows on the ridge and with his front
paws dangling inside the bowl, and tilts his head this way and that
while watching the water. He looks so engrossed. Now and then he
stretches out a paw toward the swirling water. Then when it stops, he
still hangs there staring at it, sometimes looking up at me as if to
say, 'Meowmie, make the water jump again!'

The way Caliban scratches frantically at the door when he and Miranda
are out in the enclosure, as if I've locked them out for hours, though
they've only been there five minutes, and how, when I open the door to
let them in, they tumble inside tripping over each other just like
little kids.

The way Caliban tries to outsmart me when I feed Miranda. She eats on
top of a cupboard so that Caliban won't steal her food. I have to stand
on guard while she eats, or he will jump up and snag a piece, then jump
down again and run for cover to eat it. He can do this maneuver in the
blink of an eye. He goes to jump onto the cupboard from one side, and I
put my hand in front so he can't see where he's going. Then he quickly
scrabbles to the other side of the cupboard, but it's so small, I can
just stand there and lift my other hand to stop him jumping onto the
other side. Then he quickly runs to the other side, thinking he'll be
quicker than me. But there's the hand again, in his way. When Miranda is
done, I lift her plate onto the top of the fridge, out of both their reach.

The way Caliban shows his displeasure with me. If he's mad at me for
whatever reason, he climbs to the top of the cat tree, flops down and
starts bunny-kicking the tree while staring steadily at me, as if to
say, 'see what I'm doing to this here cat tree? This could be your head,
you know.'

The way Miranda loves to have the extreme end of her snout scritched;
the bridge of her nose, her whisker pads, the end of her chin. If I
scritch the bridge of her nose long enough, she will open her mouth
slightly and a faint 'hrrrrrr hrrrrrr hrrrrr' sound can be heard. That's
the only time you can hear her purr, but I've come to recognize the
slighly quickening and deepening of her breathing that means that she is
purring.

These are things that set my current two aside from any other cats I've
known, and they make me laugh every day.