My family has had cats even before we became a family. We had two very old cats when my sister and I were little, and when they died, we wanted to get another one. A few years later, we went to the Humane Society and found ourselves this tiny little black cat with golden eyes they had named "Midas." The name stuck and we never changed it. He was a super energetic and playful kitten, always attacking pompoms and running around. Now, he's about 9 years old, and he's now a lazy cat who sleeps anywhere (especially the most uncomfortable spots!) and still manages to exploit the "puppy dog eyes."
About three years later, I was at a friend's house. She lived in the country and back then, we were joined at the hip. I had spent the weekend at her house chasing around new born kittens. We brought them into the house and played with them and named them. By the end of the weekend, there were only two that we could find; a little black one and a colourful one. Her father had name the black one "Darth Vader" and we had named the other one "Arya." We had just seen the movie Eragon and I had fallen in love with the princess's name. When the time came to be picked up, my friend suggested I keep the kitty. My parents agreed, and we welcomed this wild little thing into a family.
It took a few days before she stopped hissing at us, but she warmed up to us and now she's Midas' best friend, and always has "murder gifts" for us (dead mice and birds at our door).
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