So Mary goes out on rounds with our vet today. They gelded a horse, trimmed teeth on an alpaca, and saved the life of a pig.
And a kitten.
As they drove home, they saw a grey tabby fluffball in the middle of the road. Dr. Morrissey said, "You wanna pick it up?" Mary said what any 13 year-old girl would, "Uh, huh." By the time he stopped, it had run off into the woods. They figured it would be safe.
Fifteen minutes later, I was driving her down the same road to confirmation class. There, on the side of the road, was Fluffball. I, being of sound mind and body, lost my senses, and said, "Should I stop?"
Fifteen minutes later, after romping through the woods trying to catch a kitten, I walked up to the truck, carrying said kitten by the scruff of the neck. It is now ensconced in the back of our pickup, with food, water, and some toys the Seanster said it NEEDED.
John is not impressed, the JP4lings are over the moon, and Mary is bummed, because it may go to their home instead of ours. The Name Game has begun. Sean wants Fluffy, as do the girls. Mary wants Pedro. Kris wants Elvis. JP4ling#3 wants Queen Fluffy.
I'm holding out for Gigantor, King of the Wilderness. But that might not do.
Because we don't know what gender it is yet.
3 comments:
My vote's for Gigantor ;)
Or, Gigantress, if the distinguishing "gigantics" prove not to be present.
How about "Morrissey?"
Herr Fluffenkatzen?
Fuzzlebutt? (almost) Roadkill?
Of course there's always the classic "Mousebane," which should appeal to fantasy-lover Mary.
Putting in my vote for Elvis.... (not that you are listening to me), but Son named our dairy calf Elvis and then proceeded to call grandma and tell her that "ELVIS LIVES.... (prompted by his father of course!! NOT ME!)
You will see that we had someone recently adopt us (go to my blog)
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