On Wednesday, I offered to cat-sit for the men who were NOT installing windows at my house. That morning they'd found a tiny kitten in the parking lot of their hotel. They were planning on keeping him/her in their truck until they could find him/her (though they were reasonably sure it was a lady cat) a new owner.
Mr Wrath and I had been discussing getting a cat. While we were in Newfoundland we'd discovered that Klaxon loves cats. And cats love Klaxon. So a kitten showing up at our doorstep seemed fortuitous. Initially I hadn't intended to adopt this particular kitten, I was just curious to see how Falafel reacted to an interloper. She did well. Really well. By which I mean: she didn't eat the kitten.
(Falafel keeps one crazy eye on the kitten at all times.)
Within an hour of the boys waking up, I called Mr Wrath and asked if we could keep the kitten. To seal the deal, I emailed this photo:
So I put her in the master bathroom, got the boys in the car and drove around town till I found the window guys. They agreed to let me keep the kitten. But really, what else could they say? They were suppose to install my windows on Tuesday, and I'd agree to reschedule for Wednesday. Then on Wednesday morning I'd suggested that rather than rush through my installation, we put it off till Thursday for their convenience. Yea. They OWED me. BIG TIME.
(Hanging out on the scratching post/perch Mr Wrath constructed yesterday)
So began a six-hour discussion of what to name her.
Is it any wonder that when it comes to naming cats, I'm just as fussy as when it comes to naming humans? Yes, I'm very opinionated. Which is why I out rightly forbid the kids to call her anything lame, ie Midnight, Fluffy, Whiskers, or Megatron. We went around and around. Ezri. Crusher. Jean-luc. Nyota. Uhura. Pavel. Spock. Quark. Sisko. Beverly. Mr Mott. I even let the kids make some suggestions. Klaxon liked Professor McGonagall, Ferdinad, Lois Lane, Westley, and Buttercup. Zarf's suggestions were awful. "What about Ny-low-ee? Akalaya sounds pretty, don't you think? Or maybe Zalakalynn?" How did I give birth to a trendy namer?
(Falling asleep on the arm of my bathrobe while watching Republic of Doyle.)
By dinnertime we'd agreed to Isis. This sates my desire to bequeath a Star Trek name (Isis was a shape shifting cat from the 1968 episode Assignment: Earth) AND appeases Klaxon who loves all things Egyptian (Isis is the Ancient Egyptian goddess of motherhood, magic and fertility.)
(Mr Wrath multitasks: reading AND cuddling.)
We're not sure if Isis is a girl. I would feel chagrined about this, had my aunt not told me the story of taking her cat into be spayed. At the outset the vet said the cat was pregnant and he would have to charge extra because the operation would take longer. But when the vet opened her up, he couldn't find the womb. Which was puzzling. Until he located the testes and the penis.
Isis seems to be mostly healthy. She's going to the vet on the 30th. In the meantime she's getting de-wormed. But she's friendly and social, and a little too keen to jump on the dog's head.
Anyone want to venture a guess at her age? She's 18 cm (7 inches) from nose to butt. At what age does cat's eye colour become permanent. I hope she keeps those baby blues.