Our neighbors from across the road knocked at our door about a week ago. As soon as I pulled the door open, even before it was more than a few inches ajar, I saw it. It was a small kitten cradled gently in Christine's hands. Thinking quickly, but futilely, I slammed the door and turned both locks securely. But it was not to be, "Who is it?" said the love of my life - Julia. And soon the kitten was in the hands of the bane of my life - Julia. The kitten, maybe two weeks old, was, it is true, cute. But, it was still a kitten, and as such would need nurturing, feeding in the middle of the night, expensive food, doctoring and toys. But even more importantly it would distract Julia from me. I would become 'second fiddle', actually 'third fiddle' - I am already second in line for her affections to our number one cat, Rascal.
But, as all our friends know, I can deny Julia nothing. So, we now have number two cat - xxxx - (No name).
The naming process continues, it has been more than a week now and no consensus has appeared. The ritual for selecting a new Pope's name is long, but surely not as long as this?
I led off with what I thought was an ideal, surely never before used name for a cat , Gordon Bennett, but Julia immediately vetoed it, with a brisk, "It's a female." So I quickly countered with, "OK, how about Mrs Gordon Bennett?" This did not even garner a reply, merely a scornful look.
Over the next few days a selection of insipid names was suggested, mostly by Julia. Names like Emma. I had a 'Certainty' I thought, with Riley - seeing as she was living the life of Riley, but this again was firmly turned down with an undeniable, "There was an obnoxious boy at Gibson Island School - Sarah's first school - named Riley." The search continues.