Cookie, Belle, and Other Indignities

As a general rule, I name most the animals that come to live at my house.  Maybe that is my gift, my special talent, the ability to name living creatures. I don't have to think hard, try, Google, meditate, pray, conjure, guess, poll friends, ask Ouija, or anything. I simply meet the animal, spend a little time, and then I know its name. Savannah Banana, Bob, Adonis, Lillibash, Hush and Brush, Jules - I knew their names. Even my brother Ben's dog Fern; I named her Fern.

Sometimes I worry this is my only talent. But then I remember that I am great at teaching kids how to ride a bicycle and feel secure that I have at least two special talents. TWO! Some people have none, or at least they appear not to have any. Mine are not particularly marketable but they are mine.

Not everyone is good at naming. This became abundantly clear this week when my little rescue kitten was adopted.  I knew her name as Cookie. She is Cookie. I let my husband change it to Silver Belle only because it appeared to be a bit more marketable in our quest to place the kitten. Besides, I knew that whomever adopted her would probably change it.  But today, officially, the kitten became Skittles. Skittles. She is a member of a family and very loved.