I've had my black cat for about eight years now. Her name's Hershey, but she likes to be called 'Hershel' just as well (which caused me to nickname her 'Miss Layton'). She isn't much of an outdoor cat, due to a bad experience as a kitten that traumatized her, but she seems perfectly content being the mistress of my bedroom. Her favorite prey, oddly enough, is socks, any socks, though she prefers knee socks. She proudly presents me oodles of them daily, infuriating the people who live with me because she has no concept of what belongs to others and that they're not hers to take. Hershey's so proud of her 'hunt' that she will not stop meowing until I thank her for her generous 'gifts' verbally, and giving her a scratch behind the ear or under the chin. She's also picked up my sister's cat's strange habit of sleeping in my underwear drawer, which results in the two of them bickering over the spot when I'm trying to sleep.
I'm fortunate enough that she's shy and not very adventurous, so I don't need to worry about her getting out on Friday the 13th or Halloween and run the risk of people hurting my sweet little girl.
As I said before, she's shy, so I don't have many good pictures of her, but here's one I took with my phone the other night:
As a note, I didn't edit her eyes; they actually glow like that due to the flash.