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Have recently been thinking back to a time as a child when I had a pet cat and came up with a name that was out of the ordinary.
My mother had bought me a Burmese Brown kitten when I was 13, I remember mum asking what name I wanted to name my him - with perfect clarity and some pride - I named him SPLINTERS !
Well this got me thinking ( all 99.99 per cent ) about another very obvious cat name .... PUSSY ! - Well can you imagine calling out at the top of your voice in a crowded neighbourhood .... Come hear Pussy or worse Pussy Pussy where are you !
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Another one
I remember hearing a story about a woman who named her cat Figaro, after the cat in Disney's Pinocchio.
She would call her cat in every evening, sometimes it would take awhile for the cat to respond.
One day, at a PTA meeting, she was talking to another mother and they found that they lived in the same neighborhood. The other woman asked, "Oh, do you live near that woman who sings opera every night?"
Mr. Ram
Pet name silliness
Hi LynKat,
I STILL say the BEST pet name I ever heard, was that of my ex's best friend's sister. (How was that for a convoluted relationship?)
I will phoneticize here for the sake of drawing this out a little longer.
They named their dog "Deeojie" (With emphasis on the second sylable and an anglo-saxon pronunciation of the 'j'.)
The first time they took the animal to the vet the receptionist asked the pet's name and was answered "Deeojie" The receptionist asked, "And how do you spell that?" She was answered with "You know; 'd' - 'o' - 'g'."
Now I only heard this story second hand, Deeojie was long gone by the time I heard about this, but it is apparently true.
with love,
Hope
with love,
Hope
Once in a while I bare my soul, more often my soles bear me.
My cat-loving Mum…
…named one of her cats—a ginger (ex)tom—Willie-John after Willie-John McBride, the Irish rugby player. Willie-John inevitably got shortened to Willie, and—as cats are wont to do—he would wander off fairly frequently on his own little pusst-cat ploys. My Mum would then go looking for him, walking up and down the village calling his name and asking passers-by “Have you seen my Willie?†Some of the neighbours understood, but newcomers to the village would often look at her askance and show signs of alarm as they wondered who this wild-looking red-haired lady was.
Gabi.
Gabi.
Cats, Cats, and more cats
I can remember our family having cats dating back to when I was six. The names include
Sam
Sam the second
Missy
Felix(who I trained to walk on a leash so he could come with us as my family to Florida
Spike
Cleo
Tenten(Take my wife's nickname and reverse it.) He never met a woman's lap he didn't like
Eponine. She liked to take showers and after giving one I'd call out to the wife. "Sweety, I just made a wet pussy."
and
Misay. Which is the Waray-Waray word for cat. Imagine if my family lived on the island of Leyte now instead of Florida and went out yelling "Misay! Misay!" Actually our Misay is a house cat
We had Felix, Tenten, and Eponine for 8 years or more and until they died or needed to be put to sleep. Cleo and Spike I gave to new owners when I moved. Missy and the first Sam's fate I don't know. I think Sam may have gotten hit by a car. Sam II was in heat and ran away. We believe she was adopted by someone in our neighborhood. All the cats from Felix on were housecats though Spike and Felix(when he got older) were allowed outside.
A funny story concerning Felix. When he was about 8 years old, he was resting out in our front yards and Bluejays(Very mean birds who been known to attack people) were divebombing him. But Felix was being smart, he was faking being asleep. When one bird bombed him, I saw him raise a paw suddenly in attempt to catch it. The bird got away but my Dad said "He'll get one sooner or later."
Sure enough Felix did. One day as he returned indoors, he dropped a Bluejay at Mom's feet. He was sharing his kill with her.
We only had one dog ever and only for two years or so. Her name was Rosie and she was a Kerry Blue Terrier. She needed a lot of care, and my mother gave her away.
Daniel, author of maid, whore, bimbo, and sissy free TG fiction since 2000
What the world needs is more geniuses with humility; there are so few of us left.- Oscar Levant
Noticing
Advertising is scary. Have you noticed that anytime you post a story or comment on one that an ad for a Christian dating service offering contact with women from the Phillipines shows up on the page? That's like they're stalking you! Don't stop commenting or posting, I just think it's a weird synchronicity. Google used to do stuff like that but this is a Project Wonderful ad and they don't have the same depth of technology.
Hugs,
Erin
= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.
= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.
Nope
I haven't noticed that here. At some of the blogs I contribute at, I get all sorts of google advertisements. Once for something that was adult in nature(Can't remember it was now) and all I was writing was about sports.
Right now the Ladies Monthly ad is blank.
Confucius say- Lesbian who have sex on first date soon see Uhaul in driveway.
Daniel, author of maid, whore, bimbo, and sissy free TG fiction since 2000
What the world needs is more geniuses with humility; there are so few of us left.- Oscar Levant
dog's name.
When I was younger, 15 to 16 years old the neighbors across the streets kids had named their dog "Pooper". it was funny to here them and me even calling the dog. "Here Pooper. Here Pooper."
Actually
"Puss, puss, pussy!" used to be a really common way to call a cat, any cat, back when I was small. People have got dirty minds nowadays.
I've had four cats in the last few decades.
Jeanne came with a cat, Phred, named after the character in Doonesbury. He was a large ginger tom who had a habit of talking to himself in a voice that sounded like Poopdeck Pappy. :) Sometimes he was known as Fredicus Maximus, Emperor of the food bowl. He would make a killing chatter noise while watching birds through the windows or even on TV. He learned to open doors by hanging from the knob and wiggling around until they opened.
Our first Christmas together, Jeanne got me my own cat, a tiny tortoiseshell that I named Hazel originally for her yellow-gold eyes. This became Hazelnut Fudge for the color of her coat which was a mixture of deep fudgey brown and black with lighter streaks of golden brown and cream. That turned into Fudge. Her mother had been killed by a coyote and friends of ours had raised her and four of her sisters using doll bottles to feed them cow's milk doctored with a solution they got from the vet. Fudge had a meow like fingernails on a blackboard and would carry on a conversation with you, replying to everything you said with an ironic and understated screech. :)
Phred put up with Fudge at first but they became friends. Fudge would watch Phred and try to do everything he did. She wasn't tall enough (long enough?) to reach doorknobs and do his hanging trick but she tried. More than once I caught her leaning against a door, stretched as far as she could with paws still short of the doorknob by six inches or more. The funniest bit was to see her standing there wiggling her butt like Phred did when he tried to loosen the door knobs. :) Fudge lived to be twenty-one and died of kidney failure during a heat wave.
Our third cat was a calico who was born in the backyard about this time one summer. She was a lovely thing, mostly white with large orange and black patches, including a black one right over one eye. Which lead to her first name, The Dread Kitten Roberts. At age five months she began presenting her rear end to a confused, and neutered, Phred and earned her second name, Fanny. After we got her spayed, she settled with the name Bebekat given her by our roommate. She was one of the smartest cats I've ever known and had different vocalizations for needing water, food or a litter change. She died a few days short of her 20th birthday in the same heat wave that took Fudgey.
Phred had died of heart failure brought on by an encounter with some sort of poison he had been exposed to years before. He recovered from the poison but suffered from cirrhosis of the liver and congestive heart disease for years before we had to take him to the vet and say goodbye. We kept finding him on the staircase, blue skin from heart insufficiency showing through his orange fur, his tongue cobalt-purple.
Phred's replacement was Rocket J. Squirrelly, the Musical Cat. Rocky was named for his habit of bouncing off walls at top speed and for his proficiency at playing the anal oboe. He would sit under the dining room table providing musical accompaniment anytime we had visitors over unless we locked him in the bathroom where he would tune up a violin he kept in there and play tragic arias from Spanish opera. He wasn't very bright but Rocky was a loving, sweet animal who didn't like other cats much.
Rocky terrorized more than one ailurophobe by trying to climb into their laps to smell their breaths and gnaw on their jewelry. Phred woould do that, too, but Phred KNEW he was making people crazy and enjoyed it. Fudge's habit was to get on top of some high piece of furniture and comment on women's hairdos and men's bald spots from a perch up near the ceiling in her best tooth-on-edge screech.
= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.
Hugs,
Erin
= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.
Are you being served?
You wouldn't by any chance be Mrs. Slocombe?