I have loved cats since before my rememberer started working. My family always has had cats. On the farm there were lots of barn cats, in the spring more kittens than you wanted to count. And by autumn there were way less. Dad would sent a spray of the freshest milk out from under a cow straight into the mouth of the smartest cats. There was always warm, foamy milk poured into the pan for the 'family'. (We called it the cat pan, but it was for food and milk--not the same definition we use today.)
My favorite is grey. I think because we had a wild momma cat that you couldn't get within 20 feet of. Every spring she produced 2 or 3 grey kittens who never made it to adulthood. Until the last year of her life, she had two dark grey kittens, all grey, just like her. I finally was able to get to them one day while she was away. One definitely was going to be wild like her. The other, a little girl, seemed to enjoy being held and loved. When they were about two months old momma went hunting and never returned, a few day later the wild one disappeared also. The little girl allowed some loving and stayed around but didn't make it through the winter. She snuggled a warm cow and forgot to move....
I have had a few more grey cats since, three were very special, loving pets. And now I have another that is doing all he can to be added to the list. He definitely does not like being left alone. The empty nest is not to his liking. He will sit in the other room and protest. Like I am going to go to him, really...trot your little self to me.
Tonight we had some loving, a snack, some in your face while you try to read, and some yowling. Then, after another round of protest from the kitchen he ran straight into the bathroom, onto the toilet seat and..............
............drank from the toilet.
Seriously--I thought that was a dog trick.
He has water in the gravity water dish, water in another dish, but evidently, only the freshest will do for him.