Darling was my very first cat. She arrived at our home when I was in my early teens. An orange 'tiger' cat, she stole my heart. I quickly learned that there is nothing quite like holding a soft, cuddly purring cat. I don't think my mother was quite so smitten. Mom was never known for her patience, and Darling had a way of being in the wrong place at the wrong time doing the wrong thing. As Sally, our neighbor across the street told it, she would see our front door open and Darling would come flying out. Oh yes, she had an interesting existance at our house. Poor thing.
When our two older children were about 5 and 7 we took in two cats to join our golden lab, Sandy, and a bird named Byrd (what were we thinking?). As these two kittens were constantly playing and rolling around together, they were named Topsy and Turvy, and would curl up in the corner with Sandy for afternoon naps. They developed no fear of dogs and I learned from them that dogs don't chase cats that don't run away. When we moved to a different home, Topsy and Turvy took off on their own. They didn't like change I guess. Sandy got too big and we found a new home for her, and sadly Byrd froze to death one night when we (I) forgot it out in the unheated sun porch. Poor thing.
Much later - sometime in the 90's - we acquired two more cats. Our Max was the fourth 'tiger' in my life. He came to us as a kitten - I don't remember how or why; but Max had an interesting quirk. He liked to sit behind you on the back of a chair or couch and lick your hair. Rather embarrasing when company was in the house! And our final cat, Sheba, came to us as a rescued cat from the vet. I don't know what her early life had been, but she was always reserved and rather standoffish. Her coal black fur was so shiny and so soft. It wasn't easy to get her to sit with you, but she was a pleasure to hold. Both Max and Sheba went to new homes when we moved in 2000 and weren't allowed to have pets. I think of them occasionally and miss them and their definite personalities.
All of this because of the cats in the window as I drove down the street. What I've noticed about our feline friends is that if they are inside, they are looking and longing for the outside. And if they are outside they are looking in, waiting for the door to open inviting them in. Do you suppose they've learned their 'the grass is greener on the other side of the glass' attitude from us?