We've been a family of black cat owners for the past 15 or more years.
Pat was the first, came to me on St Patricks Day, having appeared in a friends street with his brother and no-one could find out who owned them. 'Teenage' cats. Roy took him in but found he wouldn't tolerate being in the Camper van so couldn't keep him.
Next my daughter's MIL took in a family of black kittens who had been living wild in a farmhouse used as a weekend home. One of them had kittens before they could get her to the vet, so my daughter and her sister-in-law took and my other daughter took at least one each. Ruth named one of hers Bear, which was slightly confusing for my grandson when learning to talk.(Everything black and alive was 'Bear', for a while, even my hens).
I've just come back from Christmas dinner at Ruth's SIL where her replacement black cat had to be kept out of the kitchen, until the remains of the bird had been put away safely.
Bear is still around but not quite right (vet says try this, if it doesn't work tests would be expensive and probably not lead to treatment.) So a few weeks ago they visited a cat woman. She had a litter which were nearly ready to rehome.
I went there for Christmas eve and they have 2 delightful kittens, one black, one black & white, I suspect Bear is quite grateful they have each other to play with. So light when they sat on my lap compared to Pat. This morning they had a grand game with a bit of Christmas tissue paper, and then my granddaughter started blowing bubbles from her stocking tub. They were fascinated. Good strong bubbles, they sat on the carpet for a while before bursting.