The big polkadotter is a thin calico, Kali. She's the soprano, though I've only heard her voice from a distance when she wants something--like, out! (but she doesn't know she is an indoor cat). Or when she doesn't want something, like, being held. Kali likes me--I can tell, because she visits me in my cubicle at night as she peers around my front door. She watches me from a distance or atop the desk close to the stairway for an escape route up, though I did get to chase her (slowly) around the track once or twice.
The pudgy gray one, Smudge, has little almost hidden polkadots and thus also seems to be the hidden cat. I hope she's the alto I need. Except for one "yell" and one "eep", I haven't heard another squeak from her. She was all fur and claws when I first saw her yell. I've hardly seen her since. Put the mike on her, I tell the grips, she's going to need some electro-, I mean, some amplification there. (And tell her she doesn't get a picture on my blog until she comes out from hiding.