“Hello!! My name is Possum. Or, at least, I think it is.
The elegant lady keeps calling me Possum, or Sweetie; very confusing, because
she calls the gentleman ‘Sweetie’, too. Catwoman called me ‘Port’ and
‘Guinness'. Nobody calls me ‘Midnight’.
It is a beautiful sunny day and I’m outside with the
elegant Lady, the gentle man and Catwoman. I think they’re discussing something
serious. Catwoman brought a version of ‘Old Possums book of practicle Cats’.
‘It’s time he gets a proper name’, she says. ‘I agree. ‘Midnight’ is not a
great name for him.’
Ah, so that’s what this is all about. Possum is not my
name either, nor Sweetie.
The ladies open the book and start reading ‘the naming of
cats’. Then they recite in unison a poem about Macavity. Apparently he’s not
there. He’s also ginger, so that’s not going to be my name. I’m starting to think
that this a holy book for humans, about the naming of a cat. I’m deeply
impressed.
‘What about Mr Mistoffelees? He’s black!’ The elegant
lady likes the name except for the fact that it’s a name of a demon. ‘I’m not
going to name my cat after demon,’ she says. Catwoman disagrees. ‘It’s a great
name. He black and naughty. A demon’s name is totally appropriate’, she says
while giving me a ruffle.
What about ‘Lucifer?’
Elegant lady, ‘No’
Catwoman, ‘Beelzebub? Bulby
for short.’
‘No’
Demonspawn?
‘No!!!’
‘Hellboy?Faust! Yes, you’re a Faust, aren’t you’, she says
while I’m purring away under her lovely touch. I feel rather seduced by this
Catwoman.
The elegant lady is fed up now. ‘No, I am not going to
name him after a demon!! He is NOT naughty. He has a lovely character.’
‘Ok, ok, what about Stout’ says Catwoman, while giving me
another cuddle. You know, or Guinness. Or PORT! Port is a great name for a black cat!’
‘No. I’m not giving my cat an alcoholic name either.’
I am wondering now. Do demons and alcohol have something
in common?
‘Maybe I should call him TOFKAM,’ sighs the elegant lady.
‘Tofkam??’ The other two aren’t convinced. ‘Yes, ‘The Cat Formerly Known As Midnight’. The gentleman thinks it will
become ‘Toffee’ for short, and that is the wrong type of colour.
What about Ananda? It means ‘bliss’. ‘Are you an Ananda,
Sweety?’ she asks me. Uh, am I an Annawhatta? Anawaddawadda? No way! I can see
she looks dejected, so I give her a little nudge on the chin. She strokes me
and notices that I’m a really good smoocher. She’s thinking out loud. Smooch?
Mooch? Mooji? What about Moo-Chi?
Did I hear Moo-Chi? Yes! That’s it! A cool Zen name! I’m a
Moo-Chi!”