Friday, 16 August 2013

The naming of a cat...

“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 aboutLucifer?

Elegant lady, ‘No’

Catwoman, ‘Beelzebub? Bulby for short.’




‘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!”