Here’s the latest on the stray cat situation:
I did. I called. I found out. It’s not Marmalade, not Ginger, not even ‘Yellow Cat,’ as Pearl seems inclined to call him. (Will: Remind me to request a color-blindness test at her next doctor’s appointment.) It’s Washington—as in our nation’s capital, the surname of our first president, the street around the corner from the house where I grew up—Washington!
This came as a giggle-worthy surprise to me. Partly because it’s such a markedly different name than any of the ones we’ve tried on him. Partly because my own bias is for keeping pet names, pet names—not names that could be given to humans. My personal pet history defies this principle: Fred, Ernie, Barney, Beauford (although ‘Beauford’ regrettably didn’t stick, and that cat ended up being called ‘black kitty’)… But the ones I’ve named myself—even the strays of which we’ve been temporary guardians—have borne proper ‘pet names.’
(By the by, for you picky punctuation police-types, I’m using the British quotation marks method with all these ‘single quotes’—is it driving you batty, or what? My BFF who is studying in England this year explains: for my academic writing they have us do " " if we’re directly quoting something and ' ' for scare quotes when we’re distancing ourselves from something.)
Of course, now that we know Washington’s real name, I feel much more attached to him than I did before. It’s oh-so-true, that naming principle: name it, own it, give it credence. Still, I don’t intend to take him in. I called and left a message (two messages, actually) for the cat rescue people, sharing this new bit of information. I’m willing to nag them for a few days in my attempt to track down Washington’s ‘rightful’ owner. But if I exhaust what I consider to be reasonable efforts to do so, I will then try to place him in a good home here or near A-Town. And I might even visit the little fella—he’s awful sweet.
Since my last post about our fluffy feline friend, I discovered that his ‘M’ tattoo stands for ‘microchip.’ I took him to a local vet’s office, where they scanned him and—neat-o, presto—his number popped up on the little scanner screen. I called the 24-hour pet service that manages the chips from afar and found out the owner had not registered ‘our’ tabby. However, the chip did trace to nearby E-County SPCA. So I called that number and got redirected to a different cat rescue place, which I called 3-4 times over the course of a day-and-a-half before reaching an actual person. When I did reach a real, live cat rescuer, she told me that the chip number was meaningless to their organization and ‘would (I) please call the SPCA back and find out the cat’s first name?’
I did. I called. I found out. It’s not Marmalade, not Ginger, not even ‘Yellow Cat,’ as Pearl seems inclined to call him. (Will: Remind me to request a color-blindness test at her next doctor’s appointment.) It’s Washington—as in our nation’s capital, the surname of our first president, the street around the corner from the house where I grew up—Washington!
This came as a giggle-worthy surprise to me. Partly because it’s such a markedly different name than any of the ones we’ve tried on him. Partly because my own bias is for keeping pet names, pet names—not names that could be given to humans. My personal pet history defies this principle: Fred, Ernie, Barney, Beauford (although ‘Beauford’ regrettably didn’t stick, and that cat ended up being called ‘black kitty’)… But the ones I’ve named myself—even the strays of which we’ve been temporary guardians—have borne proper ‘pet names.’
(By the by, for you picky punctuation police-types, I’m using the British quotation marks method with all these ‘single quotes’—is it driving you batty, or what? My BFF who is studying in England this year explains: for my academic writing they have us do " " if we’re directly quoting something and ' ' for scare quotes when we’re distancing ourselves from something.)
Of course, now that we know Washington’s real name, I feel much more attached to him than I did before. It’s oh-so-true, that naming principle: name it, own it, give it credence. Still, I don’t intend to take him in. I called and left a message (two messages, actually) for the cat rescue people, sharing this new bit of information. I’m willing to nag them for a few days in my attempt to track down Washington’s ‘rightful’ owner. But if I exhaust what I consider to be reasonable efforts to do so, I will then try to place him in a good home here or near A-Town. And I might even visit the little fella—he’s awful sweet.
2 comments:
Awww. What a cutie!! I hope they can help sort out where he's from.
Ya know? I didn't know the specifics about the quotation marks, but I've just sorta started doing that myself over the past few years. I didn't know that was a proper way to handle them.
I didn't even notice the single quotes, but I did notice "pet names, pet names" and thought -- I would punctuate that -- pet names *pet* names. You may have noticed my faux pas comment punctuation -- Did 4th graders sing the two parts to "Build Me a World"? But that way makes more sense to me than a question mark within the quotation marks when the quotation is not the question.
Anyway, you certainly are doing due diligence on this kitty! I think you have fallen for him and should keep him.
Personally, I like food names for pets! ;-)
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