Our first cat, Sebastian, found us really. We were beside a busy street getting gas when he wandered up and hopped in the car like he owned it. He sure owned us. We tried to find an owner for weeks but couldn't. He was part Maine Coon, part domestic mutt, and all about making sure he knew we were his.
He used to love "grooming" me while I slept. I woke up every morning with a Hitler-esque slicked comb over.
Another cat we found was a sort of brilliant orange part Persian we named Puck because he was full of piss and vinegar attitude. We couldn't keep him unfortunately because although young he had an auto immune disease. In the very short time we had him he was miserable with pain, so out of compassion to end his suffering we had him euthanized. I wish I could find his photos. Had he not been ill he would have been a lovable and fiery companion. RIP Puck.
All of our cat's and our Chihuahua Sophie were humane society rescues. All except Grace, who was a very expensive gift from my brother. Pure breed Oriental short hair cat's aren't cheap. My brother David knew I was upset because Barbra, my personal favorite Oriental short hair, was near the end of her life, I'm sad just thinking about missing her.
Barbra in her favorite place in the world, on my chest giving me face time as soon as I got home from work. She would rub both sides of her muzzle on both sides of my face, gently head butting me a couple of times afterward to let me know she was happy to have me home. She would greet me at the door, loudly meowing me to hurry up and unlock, and then jump from the floor straight to my shoulder unassisted. She was then happy to ride around on my shoulders until I settled in so she could properly give me a welcome home greeting. Easily one of the smartest cats I have ever known. Barbra was the light of my life in so many ways.
(And YES, I named her Barbra! She was impossible to ignore, was loud, had a long nose, and slightly crossed big green eyes... What the hell else was I going to name her?)