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.

Silver Belle and Christmas Cookie

I am absolutely in love with the kitten. I named her Christmas Cookie but my husband calls her Silver Belle - it fits because she is black and gray and he feels it's more appealing. Appealing is important. Her behavior and personality are exceptional. She is very petite and loves to put a gentle paw on you for attention. She has a great purr and loves to cuddle. Now she just needs a "paw in the door", something that will make someone consider her.  It could be her name, or timing. It might be her looks or a soft heart. My fingers are crossed.

Angel Traps

It started the way it usually does; an angel informs me that there is a new face in the side yard.  Really? I ask with genuine surprise and disbelief that another cat has found its way to the Museum side yard.  Really?  Its actually a kitten; 4-months the angel estimates.  I see the trap already set and a small thing with long matted hair sniffing around it.   I'll foster if you catch it, its young enough for a home.

The Museum Cats are schmoozing around the angel's feet as she sits patiently, waiting for kitten.  The cats know the angel, know who fed them, know the drill.  Almost every one of them has already been lured into the traps by hunger and the smell of wet food.  Trapped cats are fixed if needed, treated for fleas, and given  basic shots. Protocol is to then release them back to the colony or area where they were trapped.

Occasionally, a trapped cat is deemed adoptable and mainstreamed into rescue or fostering or a shelter.  This kitten is young enough to find a home and it is the Christmas season... opportunity knocks? In my mind, this job is a no-brainer; angel traps kitten, gets it fixed, drops it off at my house where I quickly and easily civilize it and hand it off to a loving couple who decide to remain childless and devote life to kitten.  Easy, I think, too easy.