Snapshots IV

Saturday 10am There's a battle going on, the battle to name the stray cat. I'm hungover and don't want to get involved - partly because naming it will make it harder to stick it in a sack and throw it in the canal. I'm joking of course; we've always had cats and probably always will - which is why we've already got two, and don't need another. This said I'm now even feeding the damn thing, and we wonder why it won't leave.

On the naming front the eldest favours Bunny and/or Bandit. Both names are linked to bands she likes - either the children or the pets of band members she likes. The concept of naming a cat Bunny is beyond me. In any case it's the youngest that is next in line in the naming ritual, as the eldest named one of our existing cats. He favours Boris which may not really work as the stray appears to be a female.

The stray also appears to be spending more time in the house, or at the very least more time than it should - which is none at all of course.

Sometime later that day a friend of the youngest is at ours, I overhear him calling the stray 'mystery cat'. I decide that I like the name 'mystery'; it is of course a mystery how it got here and why it stays. The wife doesn't like the name. I'm not sure I like the cat.