Right Where They Belong

Leonard and Remy sleeping off their Thanksgiving turkey.

Shortly after the winter wood was stacked in the basement, my husband, he of the firm 'We don't need anymore animals in the house' rule, said to me,
"When you want to get another cat, honey, just go ahead and do it. You don't need to check with me."
He said he wanted a cat to get rid of any mice that came in with the wood.
So I got two.
Actually, I wanted two. I wanted a bonded pair of boys so they would be each other's company and playmates. Knowing it is more difficult to find homes for adult cats, let alone two adults who must stay together, I also was committed to adopting bonded adult males.
And I got them. WE got them. They aren't "my" cats; they are part of our entire family.
(Abby, on the other hand, is moping around the house complaining that the cats are touching her stuff.)
Today marks two weeks since they arrived at our home. Within 24 hours, they were roaming around, getting familiar with every room, every book shelf upstairs, every piece of furniture on the main floor, and every log pile in the basement. Within a couple of days, they were flopping down on the floor, just lying there as we walked around them; if that's not a posture of trust and belonging, I don't know what it. Looking at them curled up in the chair, sound asleep, my husband quipped, "I think we'd better return them to the shelter because they aren't settling in here at all."
The boys were named Bert and Ernie by the shelter but we changed their names to Remy, on the right, and  Merlin who has since revealed himself to be a Leonard. And now Mother is calling Remy "Remigio" after one of the Tenors.
The boys don't seem to know, or care, what their names are.They are in a house with lots of room to run and play, they get fed breakfast and supper out of nice bowls plus snacks whenever they are near the shelf looking cute, and they have three people talking to them and letting them curl up on their laps (or pillows *sigh*) whenever they want. They even like my hugs and kisses.
No wonder they're sleeping so soundly; they know they are safe at home.